Amongst Hell Are Angels
by AnimeCountDown
Summary: She seeks revenge. He seeks an heir. Maybe they could work together and find something worth a little bit more. SakuraXItachi.
1. I Will Have My Revenge

**Hello! Yes, I'm back! **_  
_

**I know I've basically been M.I.A. all summer, but I promise you, I am indeed back and I'm bringing with my an abundance of new work! But first, I should explain why you're all here...**

**For those of you who have read Amongst Hell Are Angels before, you'll know I finished it a while back and made a solemn promise to never again touch this story and to never write a sequel. **

**You're here because I broke both promises. **

**You see, a couple weeks after I finished writing AHAA, I began to have these dreams about a peculiar young girl and I couldn't get her out of my head no matter what. It didn't take me long to realize that this girl was my sequel, and in order to get her out of my head, I would have to write down her story. So I conceded and spent my last semester in high school writing out her story. To refresh my memory on a couple points, I had to reread the original. **

**And I was horrified. **

_**Why**_ **did any of you read that? How? Haha, those first few chapters were awful! Granted, I was only thirteen when I began AHAA, but I knew when I read them again that I'd have no choice. I couldn't ignore my duty to fix my work any more than I could ignore its imminent sequel. **

**So. Grudgingly, bitterly, and unwillingly, I spent my entire summer re-writing this story. **

**If you read the story recently, you're bound to find a plethora of revisions (some changes were very drastic, some quite subtle). My greatest hope is that many of you can recognize and appreciate the changes I made. If not, my torture was in vain, but at least I'll be satisfied. **

**I will give you more of an update at the end of this chapter (and I want to discuss some of my literary techniques/decisions at the ends of each chapter if you're interested at all in my writing process). But for now, I'll let you get to it. I just wanted to explain from the start why you were alerted that I updated this story. Those of you who know me as a writer know I never leave these obnoxiously long author notes at the beginning of stories. I always save them for the end. **

**So, I'll let you be. **

**Enjoy**

* * *

_He called her weak._

Sakura glided through the fallen pink petals, the branches of the elegant cherry blossom trees reaching out to brush her arms with silken, rose-hued fingers. She turned her head upward, searching the shallow, transparent canopy they created above her. It was a flimsy roof, one that could protect from neither rain nor sleet nor snow. Her namesake, for all its beauty, was no more than a pretty decoration against a sky full of distant diamond stars. Inhaling softly, she brought her gaze to the illuminant yellow-white orb that hung stark against the velvet black. Regardless of its tranquil glow or impressive size, the sight of it gave Sakura chills, from the tip of her spine right down to the heels of her feet. There was nothing brilliant about a full moon like the one above her.

_He called her pathetic. _

But it could only be expected. A full moon had always been an omen of ill tidings for the Village Hidden in the Leaves. The Kyuubi attack nineteen years ago, the night of Hinata's attempted kidnap, what drove Gaara's former demon to awaken and go berserk, the night when Lee had died beside her in battle… She took another deep breath to give her strength as the memories washed over her, and she let the most prominent of her nightmares creep forth into her mind. It was eerily similar, this night… It reminded her so precisely of the moment _he_ had left her…and never returned.

_He called her annoying._

A breeze caught her hair and tossed it up around her face, tickling her cheeks and blinding her with yet more pretty, silky pink. Yet, she didn't giggle as she might have done as a child. She simply sighed and reached up to catch her short locks and pull them back behind her ear. As the wind continued to dance around her, stirring up petals and tugging at her clothing, she paused, and let the tears roll quietly from her eyes. They ran down her face, sliding down her chin to drip from her jaw onto the worn stone path she followed. It was difficult not to wonder… What might it have been like, if it had been Sasuke's warm hands caressing her rather than the wind's? Would it be like in her dreams, to feel his touch, alive and powerful on her skin? She bit her bottom lip, breathing in shakily once more, and closed her eyes against the hope such ponderings could bring her. It was a hope they brought too easily.

_But above all…_

She let it all out in a slow, heavy exhale, and turned her eyes up to the sky once again. The moon was _still_ there, as were the stars and the trees, and she _still_ stood beneath them. And she was _still_ alone. Even the wind had moved on, and her hair and the petals settled around her. Sakura blinked the last of the tears away, let them slip to the ground, and slowly unclenched her grip from her stomach. Setting her arms to her sides, she put one foot forward, and moved on as well.

_What truly meant anything at all…_

She was careful to make a note of every building she passed on her midnight stroll. Eyes a subdued green, almost blue, they took in everything and filed it all away in the mental scrapbook she'd prepared especially for this day. The Ninja Academy, the Memorial Stone, Ichiraku Ramen, Yamanaka Flower Shop, the Forest of Death, the Chuunin Exam Dome, the Hokage Faces, and the Hokage Tower had all earned special frames so far. And now she came to the last place on her checklist. She slowed to a stop before the smooth stone bench, its carved granite surface gleaming cold beneath the moon. It was simple in design, a little random in its location, worn smooth, and full of cracks. She stared at it blankly, and wondered at how it was possible to hold so much hatred for an object that was not only inanimate, but in all manners, insignificant. But this was the place where everything had changed. Where the fairy tale had begun its descent into reality. And as much as she had struggled against the darkness, the moon was no shield against the night.

_He called her useless. _

Sakura's first encounter with Sasuke after he'd left had been a brief one. She'd been full of adrenaline, standing with her teammates by her sides. For all it was worth, even if they'd failed in bringing him back, she'd at least felt powerful during that battle. Even if they would have ultimately lost and probably died had Orochimaru not called him off… Sakura had been able to stand her ground and put up a fight.

Her second encounter had not been quite as motivating.

Dropping onto the bench, she steadied her breaths and leaned over her knees, placing her forehead in the cradle of her palms. She closed her eyes, and lost herself to the shadows of that day. The new Team Kakashi had infiltrated another of Orochimaru's headquarters, one dangerously close to the Fire Country. They weren't looking for Sasuke this time, but they found him anyway.

Well, _she _had found him.

They'd gotten split up. The traps were elaborate and there were many enemies; it was all they could do to stay on their toes, but before she knew it, she was traveling the tunnels on her own, with nothing but torchlight to guide her. It was an empty training room that she stumbled across him. It was a wide chamber, though not a deep one, impossibly dark, with a monstrous multi-headed snake carved into the wall furthest from the entrance. Orochimaru was rather fond of those, she remembered thinking. Large braziers were lit in two corners of the room, behind him, making him a shadow against the light.

_Him._ She froze when she saw him. There was no way she could have known it was him; all she could make out was his silhouette against the flames spitting and hissing behind him. But she knew, because her skin started to crawl and her stomach clenched, and it was nothing like when she'd been younger. There were no butterflies in her tummy, no bubbles in her throat. It was raw heat crawling from her core to her face, to her limbs, to her womanhood. It flooded her veins and made her blood steam until she thought she'd faint.

"_Sakura_."

He was right in front of her, as quick as lightning, and his fingers found her face in the dark. But as she trembled beneath his touch, her eyes searched up and found his, scarlet instead of black. How many times had she seen him use that Sharingan? That beautiful, bloody Sharingan? To date, the count wasn't high, and never had he gazed upon her with it so freely. He'd never had a need to. Her knees went weak, and she gasped as she lost her balance, but his arms steadied her and she melted in his hold.

His flesh was hot, the large folds of his shirt hanging around his waist, his chest bare and covered in a thin layer of sweat. The room _was_ hot. She hadn't remembered it being so hot, but it suddenly was, and she couldn't breathe. As she let down all her defenses, he wrapped her close to him, pulled her flush against his body. Her eyelids fluttered as he leaned toward her, his nose brushing her hair, his breath ghosting her neck, his lips fluttering over her ear. Her jaw. He paused just in front of her, mouth so close to hers.

It was a moment of polar opposites. Her breath was already labored, her chest heaving, her eyelids heavy, but he was still as stone. The only living thing about him was the warmth of his body, the steady breath against her mouth, and the glare of his eyes flaming above her.

"You came for me again," he said, his voice much deeper than she remembered. She didn't recognize it anymore. But his voice was far from her mind as his hand slid up the curve of her hip to grip her ribs tight. The other cupped her neck, thumb stroking her jaw, back and forth, _back and forth_, _feather_ soft. "Do you love me so much, you would do anything for me? Would you really trust me so easily, Sakura?"

"Yes," she sighed, before she even had a moment to think. Even so, as shameful as her answer was, it had been true. Her heart stopped when she saw his smile, that one he'd always had as a kid. One corner up, a smirk, with his eyebrow cocked ever so slightly.

"But don't you see," he whispered, and as he spoke, raising his hand to brush aside her hair affectionately, his smile diminished and the fierce flames in his eyes became ice. "I do not need someone who can hardly stand on her own feet. Because a person who fails to stay true to her loyalties and think with her head instead of her fragile little heart…is _useless_, Sakura."

She blinked up at him. Heart frozen. Breath frozen. Body frozen.

Frozen by those eyes.

His lips brushed hers in a ghost of a kiss as he bent to her ear.

"You're useless, Sakura," he repeated, as if she hadn't understood the first time. "I have never needed you. And I never will."

The tears were coming again. Sakura shook her head furiously, until the dark, flame-lit chamber dissolved around her, and the moon and the night fell back into place. Gasping, she pressed her palms into her eyes and groaned against clenched teeth. How looking back on that moment made her want to scream.

He'd been right. Utterly, perfectly right. Even as he told her, she'd been completely helpless, unable to defend herself or even deny his cruel words. She could only stand there and take it, as he whispered the words she'd dreaded most. They were the words she'd fought against since she'd been a genin, and there he was, reassuring her…that nothing had changed. He was still at the top.

And she couldn't reach him from the bottom.

_He told her she was useless. _

Useless as a shinobi.

Useless as a friend.

Useless as a _woman_.

If it hadn't been for Naruto finding them…she had no idea what else he'd have had to say. But he'd had no choice but to release her when Naruto charged in, and as they fought and destroyed the small room, she'd fallen back, into Sai, who, surprised and uncertain of what to do, simply held her. Too stunned and heartbroken to function, she just…crumbled.

She wept noiselessly into her hands. It was a long-standing requirement for shinobi to not show emotions, but she didn't care. She'd never cared. It was a well-known fact among her friends, and even some of her enemies, that her emotions were never behind a mask. The tears came as naturally as oxygen to her lungs, and fighting them was as futile as battling an Uchiha. She stood no match.

Until now. It would be the final time she would let those burning, salty tears cross the line between the foolish, naïve girl she used to be, and the mature, powerful kunoichi she was choosing to be.

She sniffled once, long and hard, and then sat up with a flick of her hair. Her swollen eyes ached and her throat burned with tears, but she faced Konoha and the lights that stood out against the shadowed sky. The final time. Yes, tonight would be the final time, the final night. She was finished.

She stood and made her way home.

She climbed in through her bedroom window, making not a noise, hidden among the shadows. She got to work immediately, before she lost her nerve. First, she grabbed up her travel pack and propped it up on her bed, unzipped. Making next to no noise, Sakura dashed around the room, gathering medicines, anesthetics, bandages, needles, stitching wire, scrolls, soldier pills, herbs, kunai, shuriken, senbon… Everything she'd need for the journey.

Her rushing came to a halt in front of her dresser. It was bare, save for a collection of photos she'd saved over the years. Gaze traveling over each of them, she relaxed and turned toward them with a sigh. As her eyes fell on the first of the pictures, she was, again, transported to another time.

The first was the picture of the old Team 7, of her and Naruto and Sasuke and Kakashi. She still remembered the combined thrill and disappointment she'd felt upon receiving her genin teammates. A sad laugh found her throat as she reached out to touch her face, young and innocent and grinning with no worries of the darkness that lay ahead. It was so easy to look at that child and see her for who she'd been. Silly, foolish, and stupid. But even so, it had been a happy time, and the picture filled her with nostalgia. What she'd give to have _that _Naruto, so easy to understand when she thought she'd known everything about him, when she hadn't had a clue about his agony or the Kyuubi. She missed knowing without a doubt that he was a moron and she hated him and Sasuke was so much cooler. Oh, how she missed _that _Sasuke. The sullen, brooding boy who'd always ignored her…but had a kind smile when things got rough. The boy who'd protected her and saved her life, who had pushed her to keep going, whether he knew it or not. It had been easy knowing she loved him and that he was cool and that she wanted nothing more than his attention. Back before she knew anything about the hatred in his heart or his thirst for vengeance.

The next picture skipped time by a mile. It was years later, when childhood had long since bid them farewell. The face that smiled at the camera was more like her own reflection than the freshly graduated girl's. Heart-shaped, grown into her large forehead, hair kept stubbornly short, cheeks brushed with blush, eyes lined the way Tsunade had taught her. She looked feminine, older, _pretty_. They'd been at Ichiraku Ramen, she and Naruto. The day she'd given in and consented to going on a date with him. She smiled fondly, remembering the look on his face when she'd said yes, and then the way he'd laughed despite her attempts to convince him it was _only_ a reward for becoming a jonin before her. He looked so different. His boyish face had matured quickly, and the young man who'd returned with Jiraiya was nothing close to who she'd said good-bye to years before. Even in the picture, he had a strong jaw and warm eyes and a solid grin. She tilted her head at the picture thoughtfully. He was handsome. All sunlight and blue skies. He'd brought her orange roses that day. She hadn't known roses could _be_ that orange.

The third picture was falling backward through time, to more innocence and naivety. But it was such a beautiful picture, she couldn't bring herself to think badly on the moment. In the flower fields, over a decade ago, she and Ino would spend hours. They would talk and giggle and gossip, gather flowers and weave crowns from their stems. That was so far back, it was difficult remembering how it'd felt. Not even Sasuke had been a trouble back then. Those moments with Ino had built her into who she was. That was her base, her foundation, her roots that ran deepest and truest. From that place, she could draw real confidence and power. Ino, who had never had trouble fighting off her enemies, who'd never hesitated in the face of hardship, who would never think to turn away from someone in need. Everyone knew Ino had a green thumb, but her talents weren't reserved for plants alone. It was _her_ love and care that had nurtured Sakura to life and helped her to blossom. Even now, after all the fighting, Ino was closer to Sakura than most anyone. It was hard to come between a kunoichi and her teammates, of course: Naruto and Sai would always be especially special to her. But Ino was another woman. And between women, they held bonds entirely their own.

Then came a recent photo. It was taken maybe a year ago, possibly less. She'd stopped keeping track lately, of the days and the weeks and the months. They didn't mean so much anymore. But Sakura recognized the woman in the picture as her own reflection, standing on a raised platform, caught shaking Tsunade's hand. A smile was frozen on her face, but it was tight at the corners and didn't quite meet her eyes. It had been a ceremony Tsunade had held to recognize and honor some of the shinobi in the village, after all the many struggles they'd been through. Naruto, of course, was called. Sai. Kakashi. Shikamaru. Neji. A slew of others. Asuma and Lee were mentioned, as well as many others who had given their lives protecting Konoha. Sakura had been genuinely surprised when her name had been included with the others. She hadn't really done anything mentionable, especially after her failures confronting Sasuke. What good was she? A medic who grew weak at the sight of her love? A kunoichi who let her emotions rule her mind? But she'd accepted the award with as much dignity as she could. She wouldn't let anyone convince her she deserved it. Not even Naruto. Especially not Naruto.

Lee. His was the fifth, of a day they'd gone to eat at Ichiraku after a long mission. He had playfully scolded her for not telling him she was taking the picture, so he could pose, but it was Sakura's favorite photo of him. His smile was more serious than goofy and his eyebrows weren't quite so bushy. Even his small grin was pleasant and controlled on his surprisingly attractive face. He was never meant to have Sasuke's or Neji's good looks, but the photo captured a man who was good both in and out, someone who had aged wisely in his short lifetime. Sakura closed her eyes and let herself remember the last time she'd seen him. He'd been as fierce as he'd always been, standing up against those bandits. But they'd had more than tricks up their sleeves, and if it hadn't been for Lee's sacrifice, their entire team might have died with him. But he had saved them all, and when he'd looked back at him that last time, before opening all the gates his body could handle, he had worn that same smile on his face. The same smile he wore in that picture. After all his isolation as a child, his death was mourned throughout the village.

Lastly, was the picture of everyone, taken after Lee's funeral. Every previous member of Teams 7, 8, and 9, Team Guy, and Gaara and his siblings. The only ones missing were Sasuke, Lee, and Asuma. But everyone else was there, and what a collection they all made. A timid girl with kind eyes and a rosy blush. A young man grinning ear to ear, arm draped across a dog larger than a wolf. A tall, cloaked man who rarely spoke a word. A beautiful sad-eyed woman with a boy cradled carefully in her arms. A busty blonde, confidence brimming from her glittering eyes. A lazy boy who'd never admit how seriously he took his duty. A robust man with a cheeky, closed-eyed smile and more loyalty than he knew what to do with. A tall, pale man with a pretty face and hard white eyes. A girl whose cheeks were still round and her eyes wide and warm. An older man whose smile was practiced, but his face aged and his eyes hard. A solemn young boy who'd grown handsome despite his scar and his past. A woman with a cocked eyebrow, hands on her hips. A man with paint crossing his face and a smirk on his lips. A boy with a face like chiseled marble and a smile that was brilliantly, against all odds, real. A man who never seemed to get older, whose face remained a mystery, but whose smile was as familiar as air. A shinobi with strong blue eyes and a measured smile, shocking blonde hair and a powerful arm wrapped around her shoulders. Herself. As beautiful as she would ever be, hair short and pink, face milky white, eyes sparkling blue-green. The picture showed how each of them had not only grown, but how they'd come together, regardless of how different they were. It was a picture that gave her hope, that maybe one day, the world would be full of peace, that tolerance would be less a responsibility and more a willing choice. It was her favorite picture. And it was a shame it would always be a memory. They'd never join like that again…

She ended up taking four of the pictures with her, tucking them safely in one of the smaller pouches of her bag. It wasn't a necessity, but she decided that such a small indulgence couldn't hurt, and might keep her sane during her travels. As time ticked, she settled down at her desk one last time and scribbled out six letters to the six most important people in her life: her mother, Ino, Tsunade, Kakashi, Sai, and, of course, Naruto. Each gave a brief explanation of her absence, but mostly expressed how grateful she was to each of them and how she would never forget them and miss them for the rest of her days. She placed Kakashi's, Naruto's, and Sai's by the picture of Team 7, Tsunade's by the picture of her, and the remaining two between them. She would have left behind Ino's photo as well, but she couldn't bring herself to abandon it. She made sure to mention it in the letter.

She zipped her bag shut and threw it over her shoulder, where it landed with a thud and rested, heavy and full, on her back. She had to take in a deep breath before leaping through her open window. Gathering chakra to her feet, Sakura jumped from one roof to the next, skipping over buildings as though they were no more than stones in a lake.

By the time she dropped to the ground in front of Konoha's gate, she was fighting tears again. There was still the slightest trace of doubt harbored in her mind. It wasn't too late to turn back, put everything away, rip up the letters, and go on living her life as normally as she could. She could handle the pain and depression that came with loneliness. She could hide it.

But as quickly as the thought had come, she dismissed it with a shake of her head. The life she'd been living was not her own, and her selfishness burned more brightly than her honor. Turning back would be the easy thing to do, and taking the easy route would just prove she was a weak and scared little girl. But that wasn't who Sakura Haruno was anymore. She was someone new now.

Sakura turned to face her home for the last time. After she walked away, there would be no coming back. She sighed, and found that she had no tears for this moment. Of all the times she'd cried, she felt like now was the most appropriate, but for the first time, her eyes were dry. If anything, she wished she had one more moment with Naruto, to see him in person one last time. After all the years, the battles, the fighting, the tears, the smiles… She would miss him the most. Six years ago, she never would have believed it. Believed in Naruto or believed what she was about to do.

"I truly am sorry, Naruto, but…"

She took another deep breath, and turned away from the village. Past the gate, the world was full of shadows, and though she knew the land for miles outside of Konoha, it might as well have been an entirely different continent. Eyes narrowed, she took the first step.

"I _will _have my revenge."

* * *

**Yeah? Yeah? Can you see the difference? Lord, I certainly hope so. I didn't totally rework the whole thing (I'd never survive that), so it still isn't a brilliant piece of work, but it'll do for now. **

**So, it was brought to my attention in a review a while back that my portrayal of Sakura was very undesirable, almost insulting as I took it. They said they didn't like that I'd made Sakura a crybaby who deserted her village because "Sasuke had called her some names".**

**That's the point. **

**Here's where my literary explanation comes in, so if you don't care, move on, my friends. But if any of you were ever curious about Sakura's blatant weakness in this chapter, I'm here to tell you: because that's her character. Many young/aspiring writers make the mistake of making their main female protagonists perfect. You see this in actions movies, for example. The main character's love interest is kickass, flawless, witty, independent, cool, sexy, kind, etc. But I'm letting you know. Perfect characters are boring. Think about the most popular stories of our generation. **

**Harry Potter. Lord of the Rings. The Hunger Games. Fifty Shades of Grey. Speak. Now go back and look at some classics. Hamlet. Romeo & Juliet. Dr. Faustus. The Stranger. As I Lay Dying. **

**The best stories have miserably, horribly flawed characters. That's what makes it interesting. That's what makes you both love and hate a character. Because you can relate. You see your own mistakes, and it drives you crazy, and it's so much more exciting when they succeed. **

**So, that is why Sakura is exceptionally weak in the exposition of the story. Here, her ideals and priorities are unbalanced because that's who her character is in the show. Masashi Kishimoto (the creator of Naruto) explained in an interview that characters like Sakura and Lee were designed to represent blatant human weakness. Here, she portrays the insecure girl she thinks she's leaving behind. Killing Sasuke will restore the sense of worth he took away, and she's selfish (and naive) enough to think that she needs that more than she needs Konoha. Also, let me emphasize "worthless" here. Standing beside her teammates like Naruto and Sai (as you'll see in later chapters) only makes her feel more worthless, and so she is infinitely unhappy. Read between the lines. Lastly, I'd just like to point out that she is ironically contradicting herself. You can't make a decision to become mature. Maturity comes with experience and happens without one knowing. Making a conscious choice to be more mature only makes you an idiot. **

**Keep in mind, Sakura is one of my favorite characters. This story merely highlights her lovely flaws. **

**Anyway, on to my life. I've graduated, worked my ass off all summer (every day, double shifts), and now I'm at East Carolina University. Super excited, though being socially reclusive makes things a little lonely. But I have my roommate, who was a friend of mine in high school, so I'm making due. I'm a theatre arts major in case anyone was wondering, with a concentration in stage management, so all my classes are very exciting so far. For those interested, I'll be starting a vlog soon. I was going to create a new account on Youtube, but I'll probably just stick with "AnimeCountDown". I'm very fond of my name. Speaking of which, I've also revived my Twitter. Just in case you wanted to know. Anywho, that's all I wanted to say. A quick update on what's going on. I hope you can really see the changes in the story, and dear lord, I hope you like the changes I made in the future. Most of the changes are the subtle interactions between the characters that made the fic extremely OOC. Granted, most of this is pretty OOC anyway. But I don't care, that's why it's my fanfiction and Kishimoto isn't begging me for the rights to use it in his manga. **

**AnimeCountDown**


	2. Unexpected Consequence

It had been a week.

And so far, the Fire Country was living up to its name. Every day was more insufferably hot than the last, and as much as she hated to admit it, the heat was starting to get to Sakura's head. The more she pushed forward, the more difficult it became to worry about her most basic needs. She'd been careful to preserve her food supply, but her water canteen had run dry more than once already, and even her soldier pills had depleted remarkably in such a short time. So far, she'd managed to stay away from the main roads and any villages or towns, so no Leaf ninja had crossed her path as of yet, but each day, she became even more wary and suspicious than before.

The heat and the unbearable quiet was making her more paranoid than she liked. She jumped at every noise and slept with one eye open—she rarely slept as much as she should. She'd taught her body to work with an internal alarm clock, so sleeping for two or three hours at a time was no hard task. But she knew, even in her hurried search, the little rest she was getting was taking a toll on her body.

But she knew she was close. She had to be close. Sasuke and his team had to be on the move, and it was hard tracking them on her own, without any ninja dogs or tracking ninjutsu at her disposal. She was doing her best, going off of the information she'd collected over the past few months and her own mental map of the countries, stopping by villages only when she needed to pick up any new info, but at the rate she was going, she felt as though she was just running in circles. But now, she could have gone to the Wind Country and back, but she'd hardly come near the Land of Fire's borders. She'd ended up farther south than she was used to going, but she was sure this was the right way. She was positive. She could _feel_ that distinct Uchiha aura.

But on the seventh day, Sakura caved.

Not enough food, not enough sleep, and too many soldier pills made the heat too strong. She dropped to the ground from the treetops and dragged herself off the road and through the brush. Only when she was sure she was deep enough in the wilderness did she collapse against the nearest tree. Letting out a long breath, she closed her eyes and met darkness.

It was the chakra that woke her.

Though it just barely brushed her consciousness, it was enough to jolt her awake as if she'd been slapped in the face. Normally, she'd be up, on her feet, with a knife in her hand at the mere scent of another shinobi, but she'd hardly had enough rest to consider herself prepared for battle. Instead of landing in a defensive stance, she tripped and stumbled over her own feet, right back to her knees. With a gasp, she shook her head, trying to clear the fuzziness. A flash of black at her right made her twist, but too quickly. The momentum threw her to the ground. Groaning heavily, she hefted herself back to her hands and knees, squeezing her eyes shut so hard she saw stars in the darkness of her mind.

Tilting her head up, she peered through her pink hair at the man standing over her. A black and red cloak, unbuttoned at the top, just enough so she could see his face. A pale face with beautifully slanted eyes, framed by feathery black locks. It was a blurry face, but she recognized it. Or more accurately, she recognized his eyes. She could think of no other eyes so scarlet, so cold, so deadly.

And in that moment, those eyes were all she saw.

The Sharingan.

It was flight or fight, and maybe it was the sudden spike in her anger or maybe the surge of panic that abruptly flooded her veins or maybe it was nothing but the heat. But a growl ripped through her throat and she lunged at him, fingers fumbling for a kunai. They slipped past her fingers, the blades slicing through her skin as they clattered to the ground. She swiped at him, but he was gone in a flicker of black, and again, she fell on her face. Breathing heavy, she scrambled to get upright, whirling around. Her legs wobbled without her consent, and her ankles felt flimsy beneath her weight. She spun, eyes searching for orbs of blood. But she was alone.

"_No_," she snarled, hands trembling as she raised her kunai. She was still jerking her head this way and that, trying to keep her balance and see everything around her at the same time. "I _saw_ you! I know you're here; you _can't_ hide from me!"

There was silence. There were no birds or rustling leaves. Even the wind was still. Clenching her jaw, Sakura pressed a palm to one eye, trying to see straight, trying to stay on her feet. She fell back, crying out as she caught herself against a trunk. She reached back to steady herself, the rough bark digging into her hands, her legs twisted awkwardly, nearly buckled. Any moment, and they'd give beneath her. What was _wrong_ with her? Was she _really_ that bad off?

Another flash of black caught her eye, and her head followed it instinctively. The movement only threw her off balance again, and she whined as her vision filled with shadows and stars.

"Stop playing games with me, you asshole…" she growled, so light under her breath, there was no way he could hear. Raising her head, she lifted her voice and called out, "Why don't you come at me? Isn't that what you always do? Well, _do it_! I won't hold back this time! _I won't_! You know why? Because _I hate you_!"

Lips graced her ear.

"Hate?" She twisted at the word, but he was already gone. Tripping back, she gasped, but managed to stay on her feet this time. It was getting easier to think clearly. But not quickly enough. She had to recover! _Now_.

"Stop it," she snarled, clutching her head. It was pounding terribly, reverberating as if someone was striking it with a hammer, and her brain wouldn't stop rattling about inside. "You can't do this to me anymore. I won't let you… No more words. Just…just face me already! I'm tired of waiting for this! Why can't you just face me and let me kill you already!"

It was definitely the heat. Gasping hard, staring at the ground, she shook her head. Face hidden behind a veil of hair, she closed her eyes against the tears threatening to approach.

"At least…" she muttered, pressing her lips together until they were numb, "At least _kill me _if I can't…"

"You give up easily," was his response, just behind her. His breath ghosted through her locks, tickled the back of her neck.

"_Shut up_!" she screamed, but it was too late. Even as she spun to face him, the tears were starting to brim. She wasn't surprised to find no one behind her. She could see again, but her head still throbbed and her legs were more unsteady than before. "Damn you! You…you stupid… You keep underestimating me. You'll regret it… I'm stronger than I look now… And I hate you more than you realize! I hate you… You hear me: _I hate you_! I _hate_ you, Sasuke!"

Her voice rang in the silence until the echoes faded.

Not a bird moved.

Nor the leaves.

Or even the wind.

"Sasuke isn't here, little kunoichi," came his response, hardly a breath away. She could feel his lips again, just barely there. She spun, and this time, he didn't disappear. He ducked back from her lunge easily, and she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, and as his words sank in, everything seemed to fall into slow motion.

Slow motion as his unfamiliar face fell away, his raven hair fluttering as his stony eyes regarded her with the most unreadable expression. And she couldn't help it when her jaw loosened and her lips parted and her eyes went wide. Everything, for just one moment, froze in place. And nothing moved.

Not even the wind.

"Oh."

"_Oh_," he agreed, voice velvet soft.

And then everything was in motion, everything a blur. Where once nothing had moved quick enough, now everything was fast forwarding. She spun and kicked, even dodged, and for a bizarre few seconds, she felt as though maybe, just maybe, she stood a chance. She could feel him as he moved around her, like a ghost brushing against her with every motion, and she knew he was toying with her, _she knew_, but she couldn't stop fighting, not now, not for a second, because if she did, it would all be over, and she'd have wasted everything, wasted it all, on the _wrong Uchiha_.

"Fast," he commented, so soft, so quiet, she doubted it was even real, but then his fingers were brushing her throat, and she stabbed at his hand with a yell. And again, he murmured, "Fierce."

She ducked a blow to her head and swung at him again. Even though it was futile. Even though she knew this fight wasn't even a battle.

"Determined," he whispered, and she let out a frustrated scream. Just a scream. Of anger and hate, and all of it directed at herself. His grip was suddenly anchored to her arms, from behind, so she couldn't see him. She couldn't budge, couldn't lift her arms so much as an inch. "But are you _strong_?"

It hadn't been a scream. No, not _that_. The noise she'd uttered just moments before, that had been nothing but a whine, a whimper, a _sigh_. _Now_, she screamed. She screamed as chakra surged through her and she heaved, and yanked her body from his grip. Screaming, she spun around and threw her fist at him, chakra so heavy in her curled fingers, she could _hear _it buzzing. He dodged again, but she wasn't done. Not done screaming, not done fighting. She snapped a roundhouse kick toward his head, and when he swiftly slipped past it, she slammed her heel into the earth.

The ground exploded around them, and through the flying debris, she could see the momentary surprise on his face. All that gave him away was the slight lift of his eyebrows, but it was enough. Enough of an opening to dart forward, through the rubble, until she was upon him. And then she struck out at him.

And she almost had him. She let herself believe she came so close.

"Indeed she is." He was behind her again. And this time, when he grabbed her, his left arm snagged her by the waist, locking her arms against her sides, and his right hand touched a kunai to her throat.

She trembled.

"What do you want?" she breathed, acutely aware of the heat against her back, of the cold metal sliding silently along her jugular.

"All in good time," he answered, voice low. It was low indeed. Lower than she remembered Sasuke's being. Had Sasuke's ever _been_ that low? "Now, what do _you_ want?"

The world was spinning. It wasn't supposed to be spinning; she was standing still. She closed her eyes, frowning at the tingling in her legs and arms, the sensation that tickled the insides of her skull.

"What do you want, kunoichi?"

"Sasuke," she answered, going limp against him. She couldn't fight it anymore. She wasn't supposed to be awake. Her head rolled back into his chest. "Sasuke…_dead_."

It was all she could manage to say.

But the darkness was much kinder than the truth.

And so she welcomed it gratefully while his name rang in her head.

_Itachi Uchiha._

* * *

**I basically tried to make this scene a tad more realistic. In her naivety, Sakura rushes in her search for Sasuke. She's anxious, depressed, and angry. So yeah, she's still an idiot. Naruto and Lee did shit like that all the time in the anime; they could just handle it because they have absurd amounts of chakra. **

**There was one major change I made, and I wonder if anyone noticed, but I took Kisame out of this chapter. One, because it was unnecessary and his presence only contributed to the OOC-ness. Secondly, I like his entrance in the third one better. If allowed three genres, I'd definitely add humor to adventure and romance. I consciously kept this a very light, easy-to-read story. Not something very dense. I did this on purpose. I also made an attempt at keeping the same provocative dialogue while making it less awkward and more in character. I originally wrote this story before we knew much about Itachi's character at all, so I decided to make him very sexual. He's a man aware of his attractiveness, and with that appeal comes a psychological weapon. Since this is a very closed story, with only three characters pretty much, there is a lot of sexual tension that is very hard to ignore. Continue onward if you dare.**

**AnimeCountDown**


	3. Small

When she opened her eyes, it was to utter darkness. At first, it terrified her. She thought she couldn't see anymore. But a moment later, logic pushed aside her immediate instincts, and she twisted until her eyes found a fragment of light. There was only a sliver, coming from beneath the door in the corner of the room. Groaning, she rolled herself over until she was on her stomach, and pushed up onto her hands and knees. Soft cotton gave way beneath her weight, and a glance upward showed her the dim outline of a bedside table, and across the room glowed a square of starlight: a window, small and high to the ceiling. A basement. She was underground.

Biting her lip, she sat back on her legs and took in a deep breath. The memories were there, clear as though she'd never been asleep. The rigorous journey to the southern lands of the Fire Country, and her failing strength as she battled Itachi. Itachi Uchiha…the murderer of the entire Uchiha Clan.

At the thought, she couldn't suppress a shudder. No shinobi was unfamiliar with death itself, and not only death, but with taking life with one's own hands. But such things had limits and lines, and what Itachi had done was nothing like the mission of a ninja. There was no duty or honor in what he had done. The difference between assassination and murder was a blurry one, surely, but Itachi had crossed it by miles. Sakura had no desire to place her own life in the hands of such a man.

Yet, in her foolishness, she had.

Cursing, she clenched her hands into fists and banged them against her legs. How could she have ever been so careless? Even if Itachi _had_ been Sasuke, there was no chance she'd have ever faced him as an equal. If it had been _any_ shinobi of remarkable stature, she'd have failed miserably. She'd, doubtlessly, be dead.

Which was why her current state…made no sense at all. Looking down at herself was all it took to see that she was more or less unharmed. Her skin was unbroken, save where she'd cut it on her own knife, and she could feel no tender bruises or aches in her muscles. Frowning, she let her body fill with a short surge of chakra, just to be sure. She was shocked at the immediacy her chakra responded to her will, and found that her body felt no shortage of power.

She was lucky enough to be alive, let alone find herself in such perfect condition. She felt empowered, now, and aside from the ache of hunger and the itch of thirst, she felt able enough to carry out any mission.

Mentally, however…

The idea of facing Itachi ever again… She groaned, clutching her stomach and doubling over it, shaking her head miserably. To do such a thing would require more strength than her body would ever be able to give her. If she had any say in the matter, she'd never have to endure another moment in his presence. But what could she do? She? Who was so naïve that she let herself be captured like a simple-headed genin? She needed a clear head to make her decisions, and her hatred and anger only conjured clouds in her mind. Sitting back up, she inhaled deeply again before slipping from the futon to the floor. She needed to get out of there.

It was a sparse room, with naught but the futon, the table, and a small wardrobe in the corner. But her attention was diverted to the window. It was her only hope of escaping this place without notice, and while she refused to allow herself to think too highly of her chances, she crossed to the window anyway.

The ceiling was not so high that she could not reach it, but it was small enough that she second-guessed the odds of her fitting through. Biting her lip, she raised her hands to grip the edge of the windowsill, finding it made of hard stone and covered with soft clumps of soil. Gritting her teeth, she reached farther and dug her fingers into the earth's flesh, finding a grip firm enough against the stone and grass that she could heave her body upward toward freedom.

Only to be pulled back down.

Crying out, she fell backwards against a hard chest, corded arms fitting tightly around her body. Coiled with tension, she leaned her head upward away from the brush of steel at her neck, only to find the base of her skull resting against a broad, lean shoulder. Lips brushed her ear, as they so often did, and she closed her eyes. No, he would not kill her, she told herself, as he led her backwards, deeper into the room again, one step at a time. If he was to kill her, he'd have done it already. He wouldn't have waited for her to wake. Many things Itachi was, but not senseless. Cruel, maybe, but not bloodthirsty or perverted. Or so she hoped. She'd not wanted to be near him long enough to find out.

He finally stilled, and as they stood, motionless, Sakura tried to steady her breath. It was nearly impossible, with her heart thudding in her throat more so than her chest and her fingers trembling while the rest of her remained like stone beneath his blade. It shifted suddenly, inching across her throat, gliding smoothly to a place she knew was vital. It pressed close, and her lips parted, quivering, as her skin threatened to give way. It was only vaguely she noticed his hot breath ghosting her ear, his bare torso pressed to her back, and the tickle of his hair as it glanced off her shoulder and neck.

"Now," he whispered, voice dangerously low. "What plans would a kunoichi such as yourself have at this time of the night?"

Biting her lip, she pondered her wisest response for a moment before swallowing, still tense beneath his blade.

"Only a date with your younger brother," she answered, licking her lips nervously and giving an experimental squirm against his grip. He didn't budge. She sighed, daring to murmur softly, his reluctance to hurt her making her bold, "So if you don't mind…"

"And if I _do_?"

She turned pink. She couldn't help it. Heat in her face, she bit her lip and dared to turn her head ever slightly, just enough so her eyes could find his. They were dark now, blacker than the darkness that enveloped them, and they swallowed her whole before she could even breathe. What kind of joke was this? That made him look so much like Sasuke, yet so utterly indecipherable at the same time. Those eyes…they could have been the same…but…

They were smiling.

She'd swear on her life they were. Even if the moment had passed and was over within seconds, she couldn't turn away in the hope that she might see that light again. The light that didn't exist in onyx eyes. And he let her search his face. He didn't move or press her to do anything as her eyes roamed his. It was a frozen moment that should have never existed.

It wasn't until her stomach growled that the moment shattered.

Wincing, she clutched at her stomach instinctively and tried to ignore the renewed burning in her face. But the kunai slid away and the warmth of Itachi's body disappeared from her back. The relief his absence brought came with a deep breath and a mild release of tension, but when she looked over her shoulder, it was only to see him striding to the door. It swung open and let in a faded stream of light, enough that she flinched back from it at first. But Itachi didn't linger long, and soon, his footsteps were receding from the room. She hesitated only once before hurrying after him.

He wouldn't kill her. He wouldn't. She repeated the words like a mantra in her head. She was too valuable. If she wasn't valuable, he'd have killed her already. He was keeping her for a reason. He wouldn't kill her.

And right now, that made him her best bet.

Outside the room was a hallway nearly as dark, and just as dull and unfurnished. Sakura followed Itachi's silhouette to the end of the short hall, past only a few more doorways, where a wooden staircase ascended into the only source of light she'd seen so far. They rose in silence, with only the creak of the steps under their feet to meet her ears.

At the landing, she found herself in a surprisingly small room. There was a low table, a rug, and a few pieces of mismatched furniture. A bookshelf stood in the corner, full more with dust than pages. There were only two doorways, and she rushed to follow Itachi through the one to her immediate right. It was a kitchen, small, but traditional. On the table was a simple meal of rice, fish, and dried fruit. Itachi gestured to it briefly, and stepped aside.

"Hurry," he commanded briefly, and when Sakura shot him a questioning look, he nodded to the food again. "You can either eat or we leave."

An interesting proposition, and one she couldn't pass up. She couldn't help but wonder how long she'd been out, because she was _starving_. Still hesitant, she crept toward the table, eyeing it suspiciously. He wouldn't kill her. He wouldn't. Giving her poison was wasteful, of both time and supplies. If he wanted to kill her, he would have. Right? Her fingers curled around the back of the chair slowly.

"You can watch it as long as you like," he said, and she could swear there was a sigh or an eye roll somewhere in his words. Licking her lips, she glanced back at him. His dark eyes flickered at her. "But I promise you, it won't do anything."

Face burning, she bit the inside of her mouth and stared back down at the food. She slid into the seat quietly, wringing her hands together before slowly letting one inch toward the chopsticks. Pausing again, she looked over her shoulder one last time.

"Not tricking me, are you?" she tested, quirking an eyebrow experimentally. His eyes narrowed a margin of an inch.

"There wouldn't be much logic in that, kunoichi," he commented, mimicking her cocked brow. "You're a jonin, aren't you?"

"I am," she said, feeling the corner of her lip quiver upward on its own accord. "Just checking… Just trying to figure you out."

"Hn," was his reply.

Oh, so indifference was genetic. Pressing her lips into a hard line, she turned from Itachi, whose face was once again smoothed free of emotion, and back to the food. Without further question, she plucked the chopsticks from the table and dug in.

The fish was, unsurprisingly, bland, but so was nearly every meal a shinobi would eat during his or her career. There wasn't much sense in packing spices and seasoning alongside kunai and shuriken. The only relief from such plain dishes were the days she was off-duty or if her team had the luxury of stopping in a village or town. She was too hungry to care anyway, and the fish and rice were well-cooked, at least, and the fruit tasteful and sweet. Taking everything into account, it was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. To have the meal, what might be her last, was a blessing itself.

* * *

She was, for lack of a better word, weird.

Itachi didn't spend much of his time in the company of young women, but from what he remembered of his days as a peaceful citizen in Konoha, and what he saw as he passed through the shinobi countries, Sakura Haruno was not a typical woman.

Oh, he knew who she was. The lands spoke boldly and proudly of the kunoichi with the bright pink hair and the strength of a hundred men. Her features were as recognizable as the pale eyes of the Hyuga or the signature moves of the copycat ninja. He'd been surprised and pleased when he'd come across her in the forest. At the time, she'd seemed an easy solution to the problem that had surfaced recently.

But then he'd been immensely disappointed. So far, she hadn't exactly proven to be especially strong, nor as intelligent as the rumors claimed. From all he'd witnessed, he could see that her emotions influenced her heavily, and they could sway her easily toward one extreme or another. Whether that was bad or good, though, it was hard to determine. Normally, he'd dismiss her actions as silliness: genin mistakes. But his gut was telling him differently.

Itachi wasn't a man who listened to his gut.

Still, watching her was fascinating; this he couldn't deny. Her bravery, even when faced with death, was admirable, and so far, she'd kept her calm despite the odds. She hadn't attacked him, which indicated a level of astuteness. But she questioned his own intelligence…he couldn't tell if she'd asked the question to be ironic or if it was a genuine inquiry. Or was she merely judging his reaction?

She knew he had something planned for her.

But she was still afraid.

She ate deftly, but slowly enough not to upset her stomach. As polite as if sitting at a formal dinner, she didn't make a sound, didn't drop a single morsel. She cleaned her plate thoroughly, until not a crumb was left. Taking the time to wipe her mouth, she then stood and faced him. She inhaled deeply, and sighed.

"So what now?"

She'd been thinking while she ate. And she'd come to the conclusion that she was worth keeping alive, no matter what. An incorrect assumption…but, she was convenient, and Itachi wasn't keen on getting rid of her just yet. He merely turned from her bright stare and strode back into the main room, toward the front door.

"Hey!" she called after him, this time without hesitating. Bold indeed… She followed, though, which was all that mattered. Within seconds, she was right at his side, glaring up at him with burning emerald eyes. "Where are we? What do you even want with me? Look, could you at least tell me how long I've been…"

"Unconscious?" he provided, turning toward her as he pushed open the door. As he pulled his cloak from the table by the door, she blushed bright again—it certainly hadn't been the first time—and he almost sighed. She was too proud to admit it, even if she knew it. She'd fainted of her own accord. Not his.

"Yes," she muttered, pursing her lips. She had nice lips. Pale, like her skin, and fuller on the bottom than the top. He frowned.

"I have no need to explain your first two questions," he answered, ignoring his thoughts and leading her outside as he shrugged on the cloak and button it up swiftly. "You've been out for three days. But you might consider being thankful. If things hadn't happened as they had, you'd have been found by the ANBU team tracking you down. You've caused a bit of a stir in Konoha for such a small and weak kunoichi."

That last bit surprised even him. It was an unnecessary comment, but a part of him wanted to test her reaction. She was full of fire, this kunoichi, and he wanted to fan the flames to see how hot they could get.

* * *

"Hey!" Sakura didn't regret the explosion so much as she was embarrassed by it. But when he stopped and turned to stare down at her, she still refused to back down. Glowering up at him, she insisted, "I am _not_ weak and I am _certainly_ not small!"

She had no idea why the small comment bothered her more than the weak one. But it did. And even as she glared at him, and he returned her gaze evenly and blankly, she couldn't find it within herself to give into her fear. Instinct told her to look this man in his eyes, no matter how deadly they were, and face him down regardless of the consequences.

"You're lying," he said simply, and not only his words, but his level tone, shocked her. And, lips parted, she watched him as he glanced down at himself, then back at her. Sakura blinked, following his gaze. What he was implying struck her hard. Her face lit up like a firework.

"That's not fair!" she yelled, jabbing a finger at his chest. Solid muscle yielded to her assault, but he didn't budge, didn't move to stop her. No, she wasn't enough of a threat. Which was why her actions wouldn't have a consequence. He _wanted _something, and after all the trouble, she could attack him right now, and he'd still keep her. So without fear, she hissed, "You're just tall. Because you're a guy. It just runs in your family!"

Silence. She couldn't tell if he was debating on smacking her, ignoring her, or just using his Sharingan to get it all over with. The Uchiha, standing straight and tall, at least half a foot taller than she was, was indecipherable. Above her, his dark eyes smoldered and his skin glowed white beneath the moon. She crossed her arm, pursed her lips, and looked away. She refused to look at the man that resembled _him_ so greatly.

"You're small."

Huffing, she swiveled again to glare at him, but he had already turned and begun walking away.

She had no choice but to follow.

* * *

**Still with me? Can you tell the difference in this chapter? In the beginning, I had many requests to keep Itachi and Sakura's POV very distinct, so I did. This made me draw out a few more of Itachi's thoughts than I'd originally written, so you'll be getting really inside Itachi's head in the revised version. I really tried to let you see how I made his brain work. Again, I tried keeping a lot of that sexual tension and humor in there. To me, Itachi was never completely cold/stoic. But I don't want to hand over any spoilers, because that's a new addition later on. Mwahaha. Sakura's attitude is very defiant, very defensive, and very shocking. She's only eighteen, and she's used to reacting to people like Naruto and Sai, so she isn't accustomed to reigning in her temper. Itachi finds her ability to stand up to him interesting, which begins his fascination in her. No one's ever done so before. Thus, the first stirrings of interest. Moving on...**

**AnimeCountDown**


	4. Give and Take

They left the cabin, and by way of the moon, Itachi led them down a path Sakura would have never been able to spot on her own unless she had deliberately looked for it. The small lodge was perched on a gentle slope that rose out of the forest and poked at the sky. Descending from it, Sakura saw they were on the forest's edge. The trees dispersed before them and the land leveled the farther they went.

They were still in the Land of Fire, she could tell. The crisp atmosphere was the same as back home. It made her uneasy. She'd known generally where she'd been three days ago, but now, her only choice was to trust Itachi. She wasn't good at that. On missions, she liked having the control of knowing where they went, which roads they took, where they were. Now, she knew nothing. She was useless and vulnerable. She had no weapon to call her own, but she knew that even if she had something more than her chakra, she didn't dare use it. She was in his blood-soaked hands.

She took this time to think.

According to Itachi, she had left Konoha a week and a half ago. No doubt, Tsunade had sent dozens of teams to find her by now, and Naruto and the others had no doubt demanded they be sent out to find her themselves. She'd covered her trail perfectly the first couple days, but she couldn't say she was surprised they'd picked up on her eventually.

She wondered briefly how Itachi had dealt with the team that had come so close to finding her. Who had been on that team? How many of them had died? How many shinobi, close and dear to her, had sacrificed their lives to bring her back? She closed her eyes at the thought and shook her head. Why couldn't Tsunade have just taken her letter to heart? Now the deaths of her fellow shinobi would follow her to the grave.

At least, she was positive, Tsunade would never send Naruto. She'd have to chain him down, but there was no way she'd let him go… Then again, Naruto was the most persuasive person she'd ever met, and Tsunade _had_ let him chase Sasuke for a time. There was no way Itachi had left survivors, so how could anyone in Konoha know of her fate? Nobody would know not to look for her… But if Tsunade knew she was at Akatsuki's mercy, would she stop the search or intensify it?

Sakura shuddered.

But for all the fear Itachi and his bloodthirsty partner evoked, why had they spared _her_? She wasn't anything special… No. She grit her teeth together, mentally scolding herself for allowing the thought to pass through her mind. She couldn't afford to think like that anymore. Banning Sasuke's influence from her mind, she pushed it to the back of her memories, where they belonged: in the past.

Because, now, she _was_ special. She was one of the few ninja alive who could manipulate one hundred percent of her chakra perfectly. She could heal most injuries, while those who exceeded her experience could not. Poison, burns, frostbite, cuts, internal bleeding, broken bones—minor or critical, Sakura could handle it. Her levels of evasiveness and speed exceeded most jonin, and she'd mastered the art of boosting her own metabolism to wear down the effects of unwelcome drugs or intruding chakra quickly. Her aim and super-human strength made her a threat most men could neither expect nor face.

Satisfied, Sakura let her ego deflate. All of her abilities sounded great, compiled like that in a list, but she cringed when she thought of stacking her accomplishments next to Naruto's or Sasuke's. Or Itachi's. If she was really something marvelous to behold, then why was she in this situation? She'd been too eager to achieve her own revenge. Sasuke had blinded her, made her weak. Her rashness was unforgivable.

What the hell had she been thinking?

She let her attention drift to the man in front of her. The moonlight caught the flash of deep crimson on his cloak, made dark by the shadow of night, and she shivered involuntarily at the ominous way he moved. Why had he kept her around? It would have been easier to kill her, and he probably wasn't allowed to tote her around unless she was beneficial to Akatsuki as a whole…

Her medical skills were the first thing that came to mind, but the idea only made her frown. Given the chance, she'd kill him in half a second. All it took was a soft touch to the temple, a soft blow with her chakra, and goodbye S-class criminal. It was the only thing she was really known for that would be of any help to the organization. Her killing off one of their members, even with the help of Chiyo, probably meant she didn't sit well with the mysterious man in charge of the criminal organization. Maybe they wanted revenge, too. But three years later? No. Unless she was here to relieve them of some masculine urges… That couldn't be it. It was stupid to drag a woman along rather than just stop by a bar or tavern in between missions. She inwardly snorted as her subconscious tried to dismiss the thought. Surely even men like Itachi weren't immune to such things.

Then what was it?

* * *

Did she intend to just follow him?

Itachi let out a hesitant breath—of what, he wasn't sure. Obeying him _was_ the smartest thing to do in such a she'd stopped asking questions, and now she seemed to be lost in her own pattern of thought. He briefly considered using his Sharingan on her, just to figure out what she was thinking.

Her compliance was making his job too easy.

Easy enough to make him wary.

* * *

The foot of the hill made way for a sea of tall grass, vacant of trees, buildings, or as far as she could see, life. The grass swayed with every soft puff of wind, and rustled as it danced. It was dry, brittle, and more the color of sand than leaves, and as she neared it, she'd bet it could easily touch her waist. When Itachi stopped, she continued on, eyes wide as she stepped close enough to reach out and touch it. The blades scratched at her palms in rough, unwelcome greeting. The Land of Fire didn't have fields like this, only vast forests and infrequent clearings, big enough for villages and campsites.

Grass like this inhabited the northern countries, like the Land of Rice. Sucking in deeply, she took in the sight before her in disbelief. It had taken her a week to move from Konoha to the southern border just near the ocean, but it had taken Itachi only half that time to move twice the distance. How utterly humiliating.

And impressive.

Letting out the breath, she turned and looked back to Itachi, who watched her with aloof, calm eyes as dark as the sky. For a moment, they stared at each other, and in that second, Sakura's breath vanished and her lungs swelled as if they needed nothing else but _that_ look. And then he looked away, searching the area carefully. She bit the inside of her cheek to snap herself from her daze—damn hormones.

"Where are we?" she tested, crossing her arms to feign another round of bravery. His eyes flicked back to hers instantly, betraying no thread of thought.

"I already answered that question," he murmured. "And I find it troublesome to repeat myself."

Sakura inhaled and had to keep her feet planted firmly where they were. Those words were too familiar to ignore lightly. She opened her mouth to speak, but found the words gone from her throat, and had to shut her lips tight to save her own pride. The similarities between them were beginning to piss her off. She'd left Konoha, her friends, her duty, her _life_ to get _rid_ of Sasuke, not play more games with his copycat. For two people who hated each other so much, they'd probably get along better with each other than with anyone else in the world. By the time she regained her composure, he was ready to cut her off before she could say a thing.

"It would be pointless to pursue the topic any further, kunoichi," he said. Blankly. Calmly. Completely deadpan. She pressed her lips in a line, eyebrow twitching.

"Fine," she scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head back in the direction of the grass. "But you're making it harder to find a reason to cooperate."

"You don't have to cooperate."

She deflated at that, inwardly snarling as she glared at the Uchiha. He wasn't even looking at her. There was something about implied threats that made them so much more irritating than direct ones. It was then she realized he'd activated his Sharingan at some point, whether to continue his thorough search of the field or to emphasize the meaning behind his words, she'd never know. Clenching her fists, she debated her options.

Well. Ballsy hadn't failed her so far.

"Oh?" she snorted, dropping her hands to her side and turning to push through the grass. "Then I'll just be on my way."

She was actually surprised he didn't move to follow her.

But she was surprised even _more_ by the seven-foot blue man that lifted her into the air and heaved her onto his shoulder without so much as a grunt of effort. Cursing, she let her body go limp and trying to ignore the ninja's low chuckle—and the way his entire body rumbled when he did. He dropped her like a sack at Itachi's feet. She glared up at the both of them, their black silhouettes looming over her ominously. Kisame's fanged grin flashed at her and Itachi's eyes glowed like fire. No. She couldn't get scared. Not now.

Letting out a loud, exaggerated sigh, she got to her feet and took the time brushing the dirt off her legs and rear. When she was done, she straightened up, planted her hands on her hipbones and faced the two men with her chin up. They studied her silently.

"Look," she measured, watching each of their reactions carefully. At this point, she knew for a fact they wanted her for something important. "I think we should all cut down to the chase before we keep playing these games. You want something. What is it? I can't provide it unless you tell me what it is. And more likely than not, it's not something I'll do anyway, in which case, you can get on with killing me rather than hauling me around, because I _won't_ be cooperating, and even if I don't _have_ to, we both know that Uchiha's go out of their way to avoid all sorts of inconveniences, don't they?"

They didn't let up on their staring match. The big one—Kisame Hoshigaki—only widened his smile, and Itachi's eyes seemed to narrow by a fraction, but it was hard to tell in the dark, with her head buzzing frantically. For all her big words, she was scared shitless, and she hadn't realized it until halfway through her rant. Swallowing hard, she huffed.

"Well?" she breathed, fixing Itachi with her stare. "I'm not just going to keep doing whatever you say."

"And if I promised you my brother's death?" Itachi ventured quietly. Sakura blinked.

"Why the hell would you offer _that_?" she questioned, eyebrow arching, eyes wary, heart pounding.

Itachi tilted his head, his eyes fading from scarlet to obsidian as he did. He stared right into her, eyes swallowing her whole as he spoke.

"You question my generosity, kunoichi?" he said softly, eyes daring her to question him again. But she'd said it. No more games.

"Okay, one," she snorted, crossing her arms again, "We both know you're genetically incapable of anything requiring kindness, sympathy, or mercy, let alone _generosity_. Your offer comes with a price. Which brings me to number two. _What do you want from me_?"

It had been a long time since anyone had ever dared speak to him like that—especially a woman. Itachi was a simple man, one not easily angered, so her tirade served to fascinate him rather than provoke him. And again, he felt the stirrings of admiration bring a light smirk to his lips. She spoke to him freely and hinted at his crimes with such confidence, he'd have thought she had no qualm with them herself. Unable to help himself, he decided to prolong the game a few more turns. He'd press her until she broke beneath his weight.

"You wish to know what I ask for in return?" he went on, and though she looked mildly annoyed by his question—since the answer was as obvious as the color of the sky—she didn't fail to catch his choice of wording. I. Not we.

"_Yes_," she said, nodding. She seemed calmer now, arms still folded, eyebrow still raised, but her demeanor was quieter, not as daring. She looked at him and said plainly, "If it's Naruto, forget it. I left Konoha on my own accord and I don't plan on seeing him for a long time. I'll kill myself if you so much as say his name."

"This doesn't involve your Jinchuuriki, kunoichi," he said simply, fighting another urge to smirk. "This involves you."

"Well?" she prodded.

"Kisame," Itachi said suddenly, raising his voice. "Make sure we are alone."

They were alone.

And Itachi was close. The abrupt lack of proximity made her gasp, and she found herself staring up at him with wide eyes, taking a single step back to put some space between them. But he only leaned forward, making it clear that escape was impossible. He gave her a moment to adjust, if it was worth anything. He said and did nothing, and she managed to relax, even if it was by a miniscule amount.

"So…" she breathed slowly, licking her lips anxiously beneath the pressure of his eyes. "You're willing to take the time…out of your…_busy_ schedule…so that I can have my revenge on your brother… You're okay with that?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. Sakura frowned. No humanity whatsoever.

"What will you gain once he dies?" she asked curiously.

"Nothing," he answered smoothly, and refused to elaborate, even when she squinted at him in disbelief. His expression gave no answer.

"Then why would you help me?" she continued, trailing off. She gave it a moment of thought, watching him watch her. "If I'm not here because of Naruto, this doesn't involve Akatsuki, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," he replied, but once again, let the silence follow him.

"Could you please explain before you piss me of?"

"Certainly," he purred, and leaned closer to her. His lips were at her ear before she could blink. What was it with Uchiha men and whispering in her ear? "When I left my brother in Konoha ten years ago, I left him with two tasks. He has done neither in the decade I have given him, nor has he shown the capability or desire to do so in the future… This first thing I told him to do was to grow strong. Powerful. Become a man who could fight me and _win_."

Sakura's breath hitched as he hissed the last word between his teeth. For such a stoic man, there was a lot of potential fury in those words. She could even feel his chakra, uncoiling from his body and lashing out in tightly controlled flicks. She reached out to steady herself before thinking twice about it, and found herself braced against his arms. Not that it mattered. Itachi Uchiha, famed murderer and traitor, was no longer a threat to her. And he seemed more eager than he should have been to help stabilize her. He stepped right into her touch, and fit his hands on the curve of her hips. The touch made her shudder.

"It was the more difficult of the two duties, but he let it overrun his entire life…which was never my intention. I met with my brother only a fortnight ago, and he's still incapable of besting me. So, I've decided to take matters into my own hands, making Sasuke's life of no importance to me."

"So…" she said softly, monitoring her breath carefully. It was suddenly _really_ hot. "What was the second task?"

"Something I shall ask for in return for my baby brother's death," he answered smoothly, as if he were doing nothing but exhaling. "I ended the existence of my clan in the hopes of allowing it to rise from a greater foundation. My father and the elders kept to the old ways, which had been corrupted since long before my birth. It made me sick to watch them. So, I decided I would give my brother the chance to start over and begin anew. A _rebirth_, you could say."

Breathing was no longer an option. She'd forgotten how.

"As unorthodox as you've shown yourself to be, you've proven to hold potential…should you be given a purpose," he went on, turning to brush his nose in her locks. The contact made her cry out softly, her knees giving way. But he caught her. He held her up. Held her up for every blow. "Once my brother is dead, I will be the last Uchiha living. And I cannot allow our power to die. Do you understand, kunoichi?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. She couldn't even _breathe_, let alone speak, damn it! He pressed himself to her, brought her close, and she found herself both intoxicated and sickened by his scent as it came drifting to her nose. Heart beating erratically, she struggled weakly, eyes shut tight against his words, even as his lips tickled her skin and he hummed softly, either in thought or amusement. No. No way could this be happening; no way could _Itachi Uchiha_ be asking this of her.

"What I request, kunoichi…is simple…"

His right hand drifted, left its snug place at her hip and slid across her flat stomach slowly. His left thumb rubbed circles over her hipbone as the other traced a path beneath her ribs, over her navel, until it rested just over her belly. When he pressed softly, she nearly fainted, whimpering in the back of her throat. She knew. She knew what he wanted. But _now_, Itachi had no problem with voicing his thoughts. _Now_, he delighted in whispering gently, sweetly, _kindly_ in her ear, her most vivid and nightmarish fears.

"A child."

* * *

**Basically, a lot of writing technique changes. Things that made it more interesting to read, I suppose. However, if you guys are all super awesome (which I know you are), when you read the sequel, you can come re-read some of these chapters and take a look at all the funny little connections, foreshadowing, etc. there are. As I edited this, it made me smile. **

**AnimeCountDown**


	5. It's Impolite to Stare

The inn was in the middle of nowhere, but so far in their journey, everything was. So it really came as no surprise and only a slight disappointment. Sakura followed her companions inside, waiting patiently as Itachi took care of renting out their rooms, and letting herself feel nothing as she did. No anxiety, no fear, no agony. Itachi led the way up the stairs, and Kisame brought up the rear, more of a standard formation than any precaution at this point. She was too numb to run.

He opened one of the doors and motioned Sakura through. She obeyed his commands as silently as he gave them, head bowed, eyes downcast. When she heard the door click shut, she glanced over her shoulder, and gulped when she saw Itachi had joined her. Alone again. He locked the door behind him.

She moved to the window before he could turn to face her, and for a moment, as she stared out at the sunset, she pretended he didn't exist. For all she knew, maybe he didn't. Maybe she was just going crazy or this had all been a bizarre dream. The sky outside was a smear of hot reds and oranges and dark purples. Blood and shadows. She scowled. Damn it all. If only she could shut it all out by closing her eyes. Oh, the world she'd live in.

Letting out her breath, she turned to face him.

He'd already discarded his cloak on the nearest chair, and was placing his katana on the small, circular table in the corner of the room. Moving about as if it was easier than breathing to ignore her. And for him, maybe it was. She was no more than a passing mission to Itachi. But when he caught her looking, he turned to give her his full attention, and she flushed a bright red instantly.

"It's impolite to stare, kunoichi," he said, and Sakura looked hard for any signs of emotion, the emotion she'd felt radiating from him just a short while ago, out in the field. But now there was nothing. "Do you really find me that fascinating?"

Oh. There it was. Nobody completely stoic could make such a provocative remark. She bit her lip to keep from saying anything, but it did nothing to keep her face from turning an even deeper red. This time, she had to look away. Freakin' genetic Uchiha attractiveness…

How the hell was she going to do this?

She couldn't help but glance at the bed, and cringed when she did. Queen-sized. When she looked back up, his eyes were on her.

"Hypocrite," she muttered darkly, and he nodded once. As if in agreement. Arrogant bastard. Huffing, she tried to ignore him. "So…"

"I will explain to you how this arrangement will work," he said softly, and then strode from the table, across the room, his steps slow and measured. She caught her breath. "But before I do, I am going to make one thing very clear. Are you listening?"

"Yes," she breathed. It was instinct. He stopped just in front of her. There was nothing lustful about the way he stood over her now. His eyes smoldered, but the flames were deadly this time.

"You'd do best to remember that I am not my brother."

Sakura opened her mouth, closed it, and then repeated the gesture. She trembled, everywhere from her fingers to her legs to her lips, and within her chest, her heart resonated powerfully against her lungs and stomach, making her queasy to the core. Could she ever make that mistake? Sasuke and Itachi were similar…but the way she had once felt and _now_ felt about Sasuke were things she could never feel for another. For as long as she had adored him, and for the time she had hated him, she could never confuse her feelings for Itachi with the ones she felt for Sasuke… She bit her lip softly, and turned her gaze downward. Oh.

"I know," she murmured, unable to look at him. "I was rash when I fought you… I was tired, and I… Look, you may look alike, but I know the difference… That won't happen again."

"That's not what I meant," he said, and when she raised her eyes to his, he was watching her warily. Uncomfortable, she crossed her arms, almost hugging herself.

"Then what do you mean?" she requested, shifting from one foot to another. Itachi exhaled softly, the breath as close to a sigh as Sakura would bet he could manage.

"I am not oblivious to my brother's allure to women. I have suffered the same attention, and I'm well aware that in your time with him, you were no exception to his group of admirers," he explained, and though she tensed and narrowed her eyes, he seemed to either not notice or not care. "_What I mean_ is not to make the mistake of offering me what you did to him, once upon a time."

"I'm here because I want to _kill_Sasuke," she growled, curling her fists. "I didn't defect from Konoha to be reunited and have a happy ending with him. I'm not… I'm not that naïve anymore… And I don't love him. I… I don't think I can love anyone anymore… I've tried, but…"

She grit her teeth together, pressing her lips together. Why was she telling him this? She glared at him.

"I won't make the mistake," she said firmly.

"The memory is a clever and deceitful thing," he said softly. "You might be surprised what you'd do for the boy you knew years ago… Just remember that your affection is not necessary. I require your womb, nothing more."

She flushed heavily at his blatant words, and watched his back as he turned and made for the chair by the table. When he sat, he did so elegantly, and when he gestured to the chair across from her, she felt obliged to do as she was silently told. Regardless of his cold words, he was an _Uchiha_, and for all that had proven to mean in the past, she was still compliant in his perfect hands.

"What else do we have to discuss?" she mumbled, crossing her arms and leaning back hesitantly. He regarded her quietly a moment.

"We can spare no more than a fortnight to find and kill my brother," he began. "The organization does not allow time for personal matters, but as my brother may potentially provide trouble in the future, we've been given a small exception. We will give you the chance to kill him yourself, if you wish, but if you prove you cannot, then either Kisame or I shall interfere. Understood?"

Sakura had to force her lips to remain sealed. It was a fair bargain—but only given the circumstances. She gave a terse nod. Again, he considered her—she was doing nothing to hide her discomfort and irritation—and then continued.

"After Sasuke is dead, we will escort you to a hidden location. It will be highly guarded and well provisioned at all times. This is where you will reside over the given nine months and afterward, to raise the child. You will be expected to take care of and provide for yourself and the child with appropriate enthusiasm. Should you neglect your heath or the child, or do anything to draw attention to yourself, you will be punished as I see fit. This includes death. Understood?"

"You'd kill me after I had your child?" she gasped, unable to keep her jaw from dropping. She'd meant to control her reactions, but this was too much. His eyes never left her, never blinked. He never hesitated.

"If I feel I should," he answered, and she turned away.

She couldn't look at him.

"Do you understand?" he repeated, his voice considerably sterner. She sighed, refusing to look at him.

"Not really," she muttered, then closed her eyes and shook her head. "But yes. I understand what's expected of me."

"Good."

Just business. She watched him stand and don his coat before biting her lip and opening her mouth.

"You're leaving," she observed softly, and he paused at the doorway just long enough to look over his shoulder at her. "Will I have any freedom?"

"Do as you wish, so long as you don't leave the town," he answered. "Do nothing to draw attention to yourself, and know that you will be monitored if you leave the inn. If you want any privacy, you'll find it in this room."

And with that, he swept gracefully out the door.

She sat there for a long time. She traced her fingers along the edge of the table and scuffed her heels against the wooden floor. She toyed with the slender katana Itachi had left behind and then played with a torn bit of her shirt. She thought about looking around town for some new clothes and then wondered how she'd pay for them even if she found some. And she waited. She waited for the reality of the bargain to strike her.

She was going to have a child with Itachi Uchiha.

She was going to have to have sex with Itachi Uchiha.

She leaned back in her chair and let out a long breath between pursed lips, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. Her revenge on Sasuke was now a sure thing, and for that…she was…grateful. Now, she had plans after she killed him. And for that, she was…grateful. She frowned softly at the beams above her. Yes, she supposed she was in fact grateful. From a purely logic standpoint…this was a _good _thing. As good as it could get after defecting and going rogue. They'd help her complete her last mission, and then take care of her for the rest of her life.

It wasn't as if she could have returned to Konoha. Even with Naruto and Tsunade, and a hundred others on her side, the indifferent and heartless council members would never overlook her traitorous actions. And she'd never be able to face any of her friends again, anyway. Not after what she'd done…what she was planning to do.

She closed her eyes, feeling the first stirrings of remorse tingle the backs of her eyes and clump in her throat. Knowing that one day soon, she'd be giving herself over to one of the most feared men in history was a thought that she could, for whatever unfathomable reason, handle. But if Naruto knew? He would hate her. The thought brought bile to her tongue.

Swallowing hard, she sucked in a breath and pushed her tears back and willed her eyes dry. Crying wouldn't solve anything, certainly. Sitting up, she stared at her hands, turning them over once, then twice, in her lap. Sitting here…it wasn't doing her any good, either. All she was managing to do was upset herself. She needed to stay calm and level-headed throughout this whole procedure. She could hole up and cry when she was _alone_. With child.

She sighed and stood, trying on a smile and testing it in the mirror before nodding in approval. Yes, that was convincing enough. Out in the hall, she found the restroom and cleaned herself up briefly before heading out into town.

It was a small village tucked away in a valley, surrounded on every side by either steep hills covered in tall grass or paths made of loose red-tinted soil. The houses all had a similar look, the timber collected from the nearby sparse woods. Every person who passed had that honest, country look about them. Open smiles, kind eyes, and friendly greetings from everyone. If they knew who she was, would they still treat her so warmly? She did her best to keep her smile plastered on her face.

She strolled among the vendors and stalls, peering at various items and feigning fascination whenever a salesperson offered a unique object or a special price. Some of it she was genuinely interested in—new weapons being one, but the tiny town had a small population, and an even smaller population of shinobi, so weapons were a rarity. Not that she'd be able to sneak any along without Itachi catching on anyway. Clothes were another thing she debated investing in. Not many ninja wore bright red and tall boots—her wardrobe was a telltale giveaway. And her hair. She knew she should do something about that, too. But she had no money. Maybe she could bring it up to Itachi…

She snorted at the thought. Already, Itachi was taking care of her.

Continuing on her way, she explored until the sun was well on its descent and the market was closing down for the evening. As she made her way back to the inn, she took her time and studied the area around her curiously. It didn't bother her so much, knowing that she was being watched, but she was impressed. So far, she couldn't say who was watching her or where they were located.

Back in her room, Itachi was still absent, but the innkeeper brought her up a hot dinner and wished her goodnight. She ate in silence, giving the day more thought, staring at the walls and the door and the ceiling, waiting again to see if it would really hit her. It was there, a tiny little bundle of hard, pressed nerves, right behind her stomach. But by the time she scraped the last of her rice up, it still hadn't sunk in. Not yet. But it was close.

She sighed, stacked her dishes on the table, and fell onto the bed. It was large enough for two—but she sprawled across it efficiently enough that it'd take some kind of maneuvering to make room for anyone else. Staring blankly at the wall to her left, she nuzzled her face into the pillows and got comfortable. She didn't bother with the sheets. She just stared at wall and thought some more. She wanted it to come _now_. Not later, halfway down the road, or when the time came to get down to business. She knew there was no avoiding it, so she wanted to be over and done with it now. While she was alone. While she had her privacy.

Tonight was the last night to herself. No more would she ever be the independent, strong-willed woman she'd strived to be all her adolescence. From this day forth, she was nothing more than what Sasuke had turned out to be. She'd have nothing to be proud of, no family or friends to love or be loved by, no missions to accomplish. From now until the day she died, she only had one thing to expect in life.

She was going to have a child with Itachi Uchiha.

Finally, Sakura closed her eyes, let the tears come, and let the hard truth rock her into a deep sleep.

_Fuck._

* * *

She didn't bother complaining. In fact, she decided against any form of communication in general. Normally, she enjoyed Naruto's upbeat chitchat, and Sai's endearing attempts to be friendly that always somehow ended in a crack about Naruto's dick—or lack thereof, according to Sai. But today, the silence made it easier. Easier to embrace, easier to accept, easier to ignore. She didn't really know. She just knew that she had nothing to say, and hoped her companions would remain the same.

They moved quickly enough to leave behind her doubts, fears, and creeping homesickness, and again, she found herself grateful. As bad as the situation could have been, she had to admit the sheer convenience of all of it sort of—just a little—balanced out the awful parts.

She didn't want to over think anything, but it was getting more difficult the longer they walked. Without conversation or anything else to keep her mind preoccupied, her mind was wandering quickly and frequently, darting in one direction and then the next. Namely, toward the fair-skinned, raven-haired _god_ leading the way.

Frowning bitterly, she shoved her subconscious's inappropriate thoughts to the side. It didn't _matter_ if the Uchiha family _happened_ to be blessed with impossible genes. Itachi had made it perfectly clear that everything that happened between them was strictly business, and if he thought she was unworthy, then he wouldn't be using her. She had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be self-conscious about. Itachi Uchiha's unnatural habit of radiating mysterious, deadly perfect—like every other Uchiha Sakura had met—was inconsequential.

She'd deal with the dirty work when the time came, and she'd handle it like the mature grown woman she was. Like it or not, every gift had a price, and in this case, she was paying a life for a life. Fair enough.

But he was _Sasuke's brother_.

The irony made her blanch—not for the first time, and she tried to shake the image of the two Uchiha brothers standing side by side out of her head. She did _not_ need to think about how alike they were right now. Like Itachi had said, there would be no confusing the two of them. She had to be done with Sasuke and willing to move on to Itachi in order for this to work. One brother for the other.

Within a fortnight, Sasuke Uchiha would be dead. And within a year, she'd be giving birth to his would-be nephew. Well, hopefully. Her eyes widened as the thought crossed unbidden in her mind. What happened to her if she proved infertile? No, there was no way that could happen. If such a thing was true, she would surely know. Tsunade had done enough tests to make sure she was in excellent condition. Surely, she would have mentioned something like that if she'd known, and of course, she'd know. Right?

A child who looked just like Sasuke…in her arms. She sighed, frowning at the ground in front of her. The irony was unrelenting. Again, the weight of all the pessimism was too much, and she blocked it from her mind. All of it. It was easier, for now, to be empty.

By nightfall, they'd not reached a town, so they receded to a denser part of the forest and cleared out a small space just large enough for the three of them. She stood around awkwardly as Kisame quickly gathered branches from the nearby trees and Itachi settled down cross-legged to flash a series of liquid hand signs. Just as Kisame finished stacking up the woodpile, Itachi leaned forward and blew a soft breath of flames over the dry branches. In a second, they had a nice fire. Warm. Smokeless.

She stared, awed and silenced. As Kisame muttered something about finding food and disappeared into the brush again, Itachi turned to Sakura and motioned to the ground for her to sit. She hesitated, then sank slowly to her knees, sitting traditionally across the fire from him. Taking a breath, she glanced up to find he was still staring. So she stared back.

There was something majestic about those eyes. Oh, they were terrifying and chilling enough to make her want to hide on the other side of the world. But at the same time, they were made out of something purely hypnotic and beautiful that made her feel as drawn to him as a moth to flame. Supremely feminine features set in such a stern face: long-lashed, narrow, and seductive. Those eyes, right now in the darkness, with the fire reflecting in their depths…those eyes made her warm and full of things she felt too ashamed to admit.

"I will repeat myself," he said softly, and his words made her suddenly aware of how hot her face was. For a moment, she thought he was referring to his warning about confusing him for Sasuke. But just as quietly, he finished, "It's rude to stare."

She pressed her lips together in a line.

"So sorry," she muttered, but refused to look away. Instead, she nodded to the fire. "Do all of your fires emit no smoke?"

"No," he answered, and she might have sworn she heard a breath of amusement in that word, but it was gone by the time he continued his explanation. "Unlike regular fire jutsu, there are a multitude of fire techniques particular to the Uchiha clan. This is one of them."

"How is that even possible?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes skeptically.

"Uchiha's have a fondness of fire," he responded, unperturbed by her criticism. "I hardly ever create jutsus. I only learn them."

"Right," she hissed, and then cocked her head to the side curiously. "So you don't know how to works."

"Of course I do," he replied, expression unchanging and blank. She deadpanned.

"So you're just being difficult."

"No. You're only being naïve," he returned, at which she glared.

"What does that mean?" Sakura snapped. He stared at her.

"Either you underestimate me or you think I trust you," he said, as if it was too simple not to comprehend. "I never meant to share my secrets with you when I proposed."

It was the loose way he dangled the word "proposed" that made her lose her words in her throat and light up like the sun. Itachi's eyes gleamed, but she settled on blaming the flickering firelight.

"Then never mind," she huffed, glaring at the fire and trying to will the heat out of her cheeks. The weight of his stare was like the force of an inferno. Without looking up, she murmured, "It's impolite to stare."

He said nothing to counterattack her snide remark, and that only drew her eyes back up to his. The look he was giving her was worse than being undressed by someone's eyes, and it was even more unwavering than Lee's. Its intensity was too much for her to handle, and it was then she knew, that if things kept up like this, she couldn't guarantee anything about controlling her emotions.

"Would you knock it off?" she bit, trying her best intimidating expression. He remained unfazed. "It's _annoying_."

She didn't know why it struck her so hard. She'd used the word countless times. Maybe it was the way Itachi raised his eyebrows briefly in surprise, or the way that red finally melted to soft, fathomless ebony, but the word made her blanch as if she'd bitten through her own tongue. She bowed her head instinctively to hide her face as it scrunched up in unmistakable agony, but she knew he caught every moment her body trembled with tears. Even now, after all this time…she couldn't stop them from falling.

* * *

Sakura Haruno had a heart of fire.

He watched her both in unexpected fascination and unanticipated caution. One minute, she was gentle, and in the next, snapping at him like a snake, and then, suddenly, she was completely broken. Itachi knew women's emotions were generally seen as a challenge, but this… Not even he could say what might have triggered her emotions so easily.

It was unusual that he couldn't help his gaze, even when she demanded he stop staring. But he didn't want to stop. He wanted to absorb everything he could about this peculiar girl, this kunoichi he'd heard so much of, yet known so little. Something about the pink-haired kunoichi made him wonder what his life might have been like if he'd not eliminated his clan. Would this have been his fate from the start, no matter which path he'd decided to lay his fate upon? A woman like this?

He dismissed the thoughts for the time being and listened for Kisame's footsteps. Stealth was one of the traits his companion dismissed in a blatantly nontraditional manner, and for good enough reason, Itachi supposed. If Kisame wanted to sneak, he very well knew how, but the chances of running into anyone who could stand against his sheer size without falling to their knees in fear was a rarity.

For now, though, Itachi was grateful for the silence that met him. All he wanted to do was take the time to study this fascinating girl who intrigued him like no other. He wanted to be alone with her, to watch her, to speak with her, to listen to her. To touch her.

But why?

* * *

**Again, Sakura captures Itachi's interest. She puts on a brave facade at being strong, but then does nothing to hide her emotional weakness. Changes, but nothing I particularly feel like explaining/defending. Yes, I know that's what I've been doing. **

**AnimeCountDown**


	6. Shut Up

"Where are we going?"

They were the first words Sakura had managed to summon since they'd set off on their journey three nights past. So far, she'd kept to herself and her own thoughts, silently wallowing in her misery as she slowly and reluctantly accepted her fate. But the more they walked, the more self-pity became a boring indulgence, and the less her curiosity wavered. Now, she wanted to regain some of the control she'd lost—especially after her embarrassing episode last night.

"That is none of your concern, kunoichi," Itachi murmured, and though he spoke gently, the warning in his voice was more or less clear: shut up.

She scowled, but frowned before she considered her next words. Kisame chuckled behind her, a snarky grumble that felt like knives brushing her back as they walked. They put her on edge and made her hair stand on end, Kisame's laughs did. Nothing about that man offered a moment of ease. Still, though, the routine was getting old fast: walk, rest, walk, rest, walk, rest, walk, walk, walk. There was no way Itachi was always able to travel so efficiently at this awful pace.

"I disagree," she argued a moment later, keeping her tone as level as her temper allowed. To be honest, she was rather impressed with it herself, but he didn't hesitate, respond, or spare her a glance. Drumming her fingers against her thigh and pursing her lips, she went out on a limb and kept talking. "It's not very smart to keep me in the dark like this if you want me to help you as much as I can. And, I mean, in order to make this as professional as possible, you should at least treat me properly. Considering my rank."

"Excuse me?"

He stopped so abruptly, Sakura nearly ran into him. Blinking in surprise, she took a couple steps back and regarded the warning in his eyes carefully. She'd only thought to get his attention with her words; she never expected she'd get a reaction like _this_. Pausing, she debated her options only briefly before shrugging and putting her hands on her hips squarely.

"I'm a shinobi, too," she reminded him evenly, and did her best to ignore the way he quirked his eyebrow at her in mock disagreement. "If we're going to be partners, you can't just treat me like I'm some burden."

"I will treat you however I wish, kunoichi," he responded, and this time, his voice was laced with flames. Small and quiet, but warning of doom as they ensnared her. "Considering _my_ rank, yours is of little importance to me. We are not equals, thus we are not _partners_, and as such, you will stay in your place as we travel. If you insist on acting otherwise, you can and will be removed. You are easily replaceable, kunoichi."

With that, he turned and led the way once more. She wanted to ask him what the hell that stick was doing up his ass and who the fuck got it up there if he was _such _a powerful shinobi. But she didn't.

"I just wanted to know where we're going," she muttered, mostly to herself, but Kisame was at her side and grinning at her all of a sudden, urging her onward, so she tested her luck again by adding conspiratorially, "He's worse than Sasuke."

"So I've heard," Kisame agreed, his smirk growing even wider. No doubt Itachi could hear them, but the larger man didn't seem bothered by it. But it surprised Sakura when he glanced down at her again, and then consented to her question, "We aim for the base."

"You mean the Akatsuki base?" she asked, eyes growing wide.

"That's the one," he said with a light snicker. He then tilted to his side, as if deciding how much he should tell her. "One of the bases, that is. Itachi just has some things to go over with Leader before assassinating the little Uchiha is a sure-fire plan. We don't want any complications or distractions after all."

"Distractions?" she repeated, furrowing her brow in confusion. Terrifying and much bigger than any man ought to be, Kisame was proving to be not so bad. He wasn't just some hired bulk and muscle. There was cold intelligence in those beady little eyes of his. "Like what?"

"Missions," he scoffed, as if the question was absurd. After thinking about, Sakura supposed it was.

"What kind of missions does Akatsuki take on anyway?" she asked curiously, tilting her head. When he glanced at her in a moment of hesitation, she scowled at him. "You can tell me. It's not like I could get away long enough to go unveil your biggest secrets to anyone if that's what you're worried about. I know about your goal to retrieve all the tailed demons…but what do you do when you aren't tracking down Jinchuuriki?"

"Mostly…we prepare," he said, nodding as he took in her words. "For the demon extractions. It takes a lot of chakra and time. Besides that, we have to make sure the organization is well-funded. So, we go to towns and villages that either don't mind or don't recognize our presence and take on random missions to make money."

"Sounds sort of like what we do," Sakura noted with a small frown. Kisame flashed another razor sharp grin and cocked an eyebrow at her in silent laughter.

"No kidding."

* * *

"So how do you plan on finding Sasuke?"

They were still walking, and since her earlier conversation with Kisame, she hadn't opened her mouth to speak once. So she thought she was being pretty damn tolerable. But Itachi didn't even recognize the fact that she'd said anything this time. The only thing that even signaled he'd heard her was the way the air chilled around them. She frowned. For somebody so cold and calculating, Itachi was being as pissy as Ino on her period. Well _fine_. It wasn't like she'd asked him to even _do_ anything. She just wanted an answer.

"I'd just wait and see," Kisame suggested, and despite the amusement in his voice, she could hear a serious piece of advice beneath his tone: shut up.

Slumping, she trudged onward, trying not to look as pathetic and bored as she felt. _Anything_ to take her mind of this monotonous traveling, she'd appreciate. She almost wished she was sore from all the walking—it'd at least take her mind off all the overbearing _nothing_—but she hadn't ached from activity in years. She'd never even _had_ this problem. When she was little, even the most tedious missions were exciting due to the sheer fact that she had a _mission_. And by the time she'd advanced her skills, she had no time or energy to be bored. She'd do anything for the familiar sensation of adrenaline rushing in her blood and wind pressing against her face. But not with _Itachi _around. With _Itachi _around, they didn't _do_ things like that.

Ever since that morning, he'd been silent and moody—and while she wasn't exactly an expert on all things Itachi Uchiha, his behavior was in stark contrast with the way he'd acted before. It was impossible to read him, because there was nothing to read. Nothing had changed since yesterday as far as she knew, but the difference was unmistakably there. In the inn, he'd been calm as he'd answered each of her questions evenly, almost accommodating he'd been so cooperative. Today… Well, today, he just wasn't having it.

She'd never even come close to understanding Sasuke in all the years she'd known him; there was no way she'd be able to peer in Itachi's mind in just two weeks. Sai was one thing. Sai had been trained to ignore, shun, and reject his body's instinct to respond with emotion. He'd been, more or less, brainwashed, and restoring his mental health was just a matter of retraining his brain. And Sasuke… Sasuke was psychologically scarred and irreversibly damaged.

But Itachi… Had he been born like this? He'd grown up in a loving home with two healthy, respectable parents and a sweet baby brother. His clan was praised and Itachi had been honored and loved his entire life… What had broken such a brilliant, talented mind that he had wanted to wipe clean and renew the Uchiha clan? Its former glory, he'd said… What did that mean? She shook away the thoughts as she kept pace with the enigma of a man in front of her.

* * *

He hated that she could get under his skin.

He didn't know how or why or _when_ it had happened, but sometime last night, as he'd watched her cry, and then watched her as she dried her tears and drifted to sleep, curled up in a ball by the fire… The memory made him grit his teeth, and he had to resist balling his hands into fists. There was no logical reason why she could possibly piss him off this much, but she did, and he hated that she could and that he didn't know why and that she probably wasn't even doing it on purpose.

Maybe it was because she was just too damn interesting to ignore. A part of him _wanted _her to ask questions, just because it meant he could hear her voice. And he hated that too. He wanted to be near her and away from her all at the same time, and for the first time in his life, he pondered the idea of regret.

And he began to think in "what ifs". What if he became _too _interested? What if she became a weakness? What if she found out? What if she manipulated him? What if someone _else_ found out? What if she became too attached to him? What if Leader said no?

Biting the inside of his mouth was the only way he could vent his anger and continue putting up his composed façade at the same time. But what he would give to be able to turn around and tell that girl to _shut up_.

The chance of him convincing Leader that Sakura was an asset wouldn't be impossible, but it would be more difficult than if he'd picked up a random girl on the street and ran to hide her away immediately. Sakura Haruno offered an abundance of problems all on her own. For one, she was well-known and considered a high-ranking shinobi in Konoha. Her going missing attracted attention and attacks. Secondly, she was a power in and of herself. She'd taken out a member of Akatsuki not so long ago, and in three years, a ninja could grow a lot. She was a threat. Not to mention, her attachment to one of the Jinchuuriki meant that her loyalty would be permanently put on trial. There would never be a thing called trust or privacy in the girl's life after this.

Not that he _cared_.

But killing Sasuke would have a good outcome for Akatsuki, and Itachi's Uchiha-born charisma had yet to fail him while in the presence of Leader. As ominous and overbearing as the man was, Itachi had never quite been afraid of him. And he certainly didn't shy away from his challenges or refusals. No, Leader would be no more of a challenge than Sakura herself.

"How long will it take for us to find him?" she ventured, her tone overly cautious. He was torn between sighing and smirking. He did neither.

"I don't like repeating myself, kunoichi," he repeated.

She fell silent again, and despite the relief it brought, he couldn't help but find himself anticipating the next moment she'd piss him off.

* * *

There was one more town on the way, and it was more or less the same as the last one. Small, out of the way, and friendly enough it made Sakura something close to sick. But she put on her smile and followed the men up to the rooms—again, Itachi rented just two—and found herself locked in a bedroom clearly made for a couple.

The door slid shut behind them and she blatantly watched him remove his cloak, sword, and then his hitai-ate without hesitation or sound. As he was setting the metal headband on the end table, she opened her mouth cautiously. His gaze caught hers immediately, and he stared at her expectantly a moment before she sighed and looked away.

"I know," she muttered, kicking at the ground. "_Shut up_."

Her regarded her for what seemed like much too long, and then he disappeared into the attached bathroom. She bit her lip, listening, and soon she heard the telltale sound of running water. It almost surprised her—he was _normal_. Rolling her eyes at herself, she took a look around the room with wide, curious eyes. This inn was of higher quality than the last, with plushy sheets, a wide mattress, the personal bathroom… Her eyes trailed to the closed door, and she swayed, pushing herself up on her toes and then falling back onto her heels quietly. Even the perfect Uchiha had his _needs_.

_Perfection_. It had no limits. It did as it wished. No country could contain that.

Was that what Akatsuki was? She plopped onto the bed and squirmed beneath the covers as she pondered the idea seriously. As a citizen of Konoha, she was familiar with the Akatsuki stigma. As a shinobi, she'd learned to hate the organization and each individual within it. Just like she'd done to Naruto.

She couldn't think of the members of Akatsuki as crazy or unstable—even if their actions _were_ mentally and emotionally absurd. They were anything _but_ idiots, though. In fact, she'd go as far to call them all geniuses, each a master of his own trade. Their skills were nothing to be taken lightly, underestimated, or dismissed. Of all she knew, it was a rare thing for the members of Akatsuki to be replaced. Burrowing her face into her pillow, she closed her eyes and tried to recall each of the members of Akatsuki. She'd gone over the list with Tsunade and Kakashi many times.

There was Kisame Hoshigaki, one of the infamous Seven Swordsmen of the Mist. He towered over most ninja and put his great size to use in terrifying hand-to-hand combat. He was a master of water and mist techniques, ones that could either cause a tidal wave to come crashing down on you or have sharks ripping through the air or leave your vision obscured in a field of fog. And if none of that had your typical shinobi trembling, his monster sword, Samehada, was made of a special material that not only shredded through flesh like it was soft cheese, but absorbed and fed off of its victims' chakra.

There was Deidara, the mad bomber. A pretty face, a wicked grin, and a talent that could have easily been deemed breath-taking if the results weren't so catastrophic. Sakura had faced him herself—not in battle, but close enough that she might have fought him if things had turned out slightly different. He was close enough to unstable as they came, making loud, brash declarations in the name of his art and attacking his enemies from a distance with bombs that came in the disguise of little clay animals that could navigate and attack just as well as ones made of flesh and bone.

Then was Sasori, the Akatsuki member she _had_ battled. He'd kept at a distance, too, hiding behind his puppet armor and poisonous blades. That one's mind was in a place she could hardly fathom, fashioning his own body into a puppet, one that could never age, never be truly harmed, and never die. No part of him had been natural save his heart in the end.

She didn't know much of some of the other members, but Konoha had collected information of men who wielded curses like swords and monsters who possessed maybe five hearts or more and just as many lives. She knew Orochimaru had once been a member of Akatsuki, and the mere thought of him gave her the creeps. He was on his own level of bizarre and morbid. A being half man, half snake, who'd found a way to perpetually cheat death and claim immortality. And of course, there was the mysterious leader of Akatsuki, the man who never showed his face, but who orchestrated everything brilliantly from behind the scenes. She didn't even know anything about him. And he was terrifying.

And then there was Itachi Uchiha. The sole person responsible for the death of his entire family with the exception of his little brother—a feat that proved both his strength _and_ his emotional state of being. A master of taijutsu, genjutsu, _and_ many ninjutsu, Itachi handled himself with a particular indifferent calm that unnerved any opponent and disarmed them from the get-go. A man with no emotions to hinder his vision or his judgement…

In many ways, the members of Akatsuki _were_ perfect.

And they strove to test that perfection—they wanted to dominate and lead, not be the obedient followers city officials trained all shinobi to be. With power came the desire to wield it. Why would they willingly let someone else use it for them? Sakura couldn't say for sure what she might have done or how she would have turned out if she had been born with that kind of strength. Because she hadn't been.

Her innate talents were narrowed down and limited to her ability to control chakra easily. She'd mastered manipulating it at a young enough age, and learned to use it as easily as she did her heart and lungs. Her skills as a medic were close to unmatched, especially for her age and experience. She had decent aim, and felt as comfortable with a battle axe as she did a kunai. Tsunade had ensured that her taijutsu was topnotch. Being a medic-nin, she had to be able to evade all attacks, so she'd been forced to hone her speed and ability to react without thinking. Poisons were a small specialty, both on the offensive and when in need of a quick antidote. And she supposed her genjutsu wasn't that bad.

Now, _that_ was an impressive list. She groaned and buried her head into the sheets. No special talents, no tricks up her sleeves. She was just one of the books she loved to read, filled with all the basics.

No Kekkei Genkai to enhance her sight like the Sharingan or Byakugan.

No demon to charge her up like the Kyuubi or Shukaku.

No super-speed or sand-wielding powers.

No chidori or rasengan.

Hell, she _probably_ would have been okay with shark skin or multiple mouths.

Everybody around her seemed to be have been born with these remarkable abilities and all these birth-given techniques that she had to work her ass off just to fathom the possibility of doing. It just, simply, wasn't…_fair_. It made her want to pout and scream and smash the walls to pieces. What could _she_ do? Silly as it was, she wanted to impress these Akatsuki members. She wanted to shock the hell out of them and _make them see her_. She wanted their respect.

She knew Itachi was a prodigy. She knew he was the "above and beyond" that every shinobi strived to be. But the way he blew her off constantly, like she was nothing more than a small child tugging at his sleeve, pissed her off. It was demeaning and rude and unnecessary, and she didn't give a _damn_ if he'd been born into all his perfection. He didn't even have to work at anything.

She grit her teeth and forced herself to rethink. No, that was the way Lee always thought—that with natural talent came the luxury of never having to put forth effort. She knew better. Sasuke was born with loads of talent, but he still felt outdone. By _Naruto_, who'd been born with nothing. And she thought of Neji, who'd strived to be the best at his father's last wishes. No matter what one was born with, she supposed everyone had to work. That was life. And life sucked. That simple.

And right now, life had handed her a new problem to work on.

_Oh_. Her eyes snapped open wide and her lips parted in wonder as her mind whirled at the thought. Itachi _wanted_ her. He wanted her for what she had been born as, for what no one could ever take away, for what all those men and all their strength would never have. The infamous, deadly Itachi Uchiha wanted _her_ because she had been born a woman, and she could cling to that, make sure no one would ever forget. Because she was going to bear the heir of the most legendary clan from the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

_Sasuke had been wrong. _

She wasn't useless.

* * *

**Okay. So, Itachi's mood change (don't know if anyone caught on this in the original) is because he's a deep thinker, and so far, he isn't able to figure out why Sakura interests him. Because he can't just let it go, it pisses him off because he favors control over everything. Sakura is feeling undermined and worthless again, but restless. I feel like I had more to say while I was writing the chapters, and now that I'm searching for the things I wanted to point out, I can't think of anything. Figures. **

**AnimeCountDown**


	7. What We Want

Staring contests weren't uncommon during Akatsuki meetings, and even if Leader had a pair of blood-chilling eyes, Itachi never found himself fazed or put ill at ease by them. Relaxed as he always was, facing Leader was hardly the challenge some of the others made it out to be. Kisame was cocky enough, snickering to himself as long as he kept out of the limelight. Deidara always acted like a little boy, and the others were always nervous. Even if they tried to hide it, Itachi could pick up on all the uneasy twitches and the way they shifted from one foot to another. But not even Leader's eyes—those ringed, glowing, multi-colored eyes—could put fear in the Sharingan.

"Do you have another solution to this problem?" Itachi asked calmly once it was obvious Leader was making no move to respond. This game of dominance could become weary, and while Leader knew Itachi's tolerance for obedience was stretched thinly as it could be, Itachi was still at his mercy. "Sasuke is growing stronger and is bound to become a threat to Akatsuki eventually."

"How great of a need is this, Itachi?" he asked, voice low. Unidentifiable. "We don't have time."

"Give me a fortnight," he said, unmoving. This place felt timeless. His body was but a mere apparition here. "It's all I'll need."

"This mission you've elected yourself for…" Leader said slowly, and Itachi couldn't tell what emotion lay thick beneath his monotone voice. "Explain it to me again."

"My younger brother is a hindrance and a threat," he answered smoothly. "He could easily interfere with Akatsuki's mission as a whole, and as the person who once left him alive, it is my responsibility to eliminate him. However, in doing so, I must also fulfill an obligation that I cannot ignore as the last-standing Uchiha."

Recognition lit Leader's eyes.

"What do you plan to do with this…unwanted offspring, Itachi?" he pried, and the tension in the room spiked. Itachi ignored it.

"Unexpected, perhaps," Itachi corrected, "But I planned all along to have the Uchiha name carried out. Whether the task be given to my brother or I, it's of no matter to me. My brother is a burden, and so the mission falls to me.

"I see," Leader said slowly, watching him carefully. The silent warning was there, but Itachi knew the man would play every string he could to get his hands on the Uchiha heir. Suddenly, the man's cold eyes narrowed to slits. "Who is assisting you? Surely, you don't plan on doing this on your own?"

It might have been tempting to laugh, but no one dared.

"A kunoichi from Konohagakure," he answered, lifting his chin ever slightly. "A fine shinobi with a dislike for my brother and attributes that will be an asset in raising the child."

"Does she have a name?"

So it _was_ inevitable.

"Sakura Haruno."

Of course, silence. Itachi didn't let it bother him.

"The same kunoichi that has inconvenienced our organization before?" Leader questioned, to which Itachi nodded. "She is both an obstacle in obtaining the Kyuubi and a threat to our members."

"It's no longer a problem," Itachi assured him coolly, refusing to blink. "If anything becomes an issue, I will personally take care of it before it gets out of hand."

"Make sure you do," Leader said, and then paused before nodding his consent. "You have my permission to carry on with this task. Until you have completed it, you will be temporarily suspended from any other Akatsuki activities. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Cold eyes pinned him in place.

"And then we'll just see how this goes, won't we?" he hissed.

Itachi blinked.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

When the door slid open, Sakura sat up on the bed, setting aside the book she had found tucked under one of the bedside tables. Itachi stood in the doorway, and at his arrival, she stood and greeted him with a shy smile, clasping her hands behind her back hesitantly. He didn't even look at her as he began his daily ritual of removing his cloak and katana.

"So how'd everything go?" she asked, sidling up to him so close, her arm brushed his. He paused and turned his wary gaze to her, clearly suspicious. When he didn't respond, she shrugged and bit her lip. She dropped her gaze to the floor. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want."

She flicked her gaze upward, right through her eyelashes. His eyes were dark and heavy tonight, and when she inhaled slowly, his chest seemed to mimic hers. _Oh_, was she _getting to him_? She sauntered a few feet away, then stopped and swayed on her toes. She peeked over her shoulder at him, pleased to find he was still watching her cautiously. She licked her lips, and more serious now, locked her gaze with his.

"I can wait for you to trust me enough to talk to me," she said softly, and then tilted her head. "Or maybe I'm just wasting my time. I was with your brother, after all."

He said nothing.

"I'll be out in a minute," she murmured, averting her eyes once more as she edged open the bathroom door and slipped halfway inside. "Make yourself comfortable. Unless you're leaving soon again. In which case…goodbye again, I guess. And good luck. With whatever it is you do."

She ducked inside and shut the door behind her swiftly, exhaling heavily and slumping against the wall. _Oh dear_. That had been much harder than she'd thought it'd be. Changing her attitude toward Itachi was going to be no easy task… But it hadn't been utterly terrible. Just absolutely terrifying and he made her so damn _nervous_ with the way he just _stared_ at her like that. He was probably wondering what the hell was wrong with her.

Pushing away from the door, she moved to turn on the water and then slowly slipped out of her clothes. She unzipped the front of her shirt and discarded it, letting her skirt and shorts drop to the floor soon after it. What did Itachi even think of her anyway? Did he think her to be a moody, overly dramatic child? Was he even interested in getting to know her?

She wouldn't really know what to say if someone asked her what type of person she was. She could be very sensitive and temperamental, surely, especially when it came to the people she was familiar with. Naruto and Sai, and sometimes Kakashi too, if he was being particularly naughty. She kept them all in line was the way she saw it. But it was only because she loved them all so much. She wanted nothing more than to cherish and take care of the people closest to her, and it was these emotions that she could never discard when she went on missions. Her uncontrollable need to protect and take care of others…

Inside the hot shower, her troubles melted from her skin, and she found it hard to focus on Itachi, Akatsuki, or anything of the sort. She didn't want to. She'd thought about it all enough for the day. If she was going to change the way she treated Itachi from here on out… Treat him kindly and demurely, then she'd have to be as relaxed as she could be. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back into the water. Maybe if she could treat him nicely…he'd open up a little more. Maybe.

* * *

She was odd as she was frustrating.

One minute furious and snappy, and in the next, it was almost as if she _wanted _to be here. Which Itachi knew couldn't possibly be the case. Shaking his head free of the thoughts, he set down his katana and rubbed the bridge of his nose hard enough to make his eyes water. There had to be _something_ he could do to distract himself from this kunoichi and all the chaotic emotions she kept stirring up in him.

He wandered the small space of room briefly, taking in his surroundings and assessing what was around him. As he neared the bedside table, he took in the rumpled sheets, though the bed was still made, and reached out to brush his fingers across the cover of the book she'd been reading. It was a novel he wasn't familiar with, but its cover was fading and the pages were worn and yellowing. A classic of some sort. A hard read by the looks of it. Was the girl just bored? In need of someone to talk to?

Unable to keep himself from smirking, he turned to face the window and peered out at the setting sun through the blinds. How long had his little brother been able to put up with his infuriating teammate? Had she always been this naturally addicting? Or was it just Itachi? He hated her for making him want her, but his hatred didn't make her any less desirable. In fact, it only pushed him further into this unsteady, unfamiliar darkness. He _wanted_ her. Wanted to claim her. Wanted to take her. For making him put up with all this. He…

He couldn't afford to think like that. Sighing, he pressed his fingers to his eyes, ignoring the dull ache that had been there for years. It grew progressively worse, but his medicine made it endurable, and Itachi had an unhealthy tolerance for pain anyway. If he could handle this perpetual migraine, then he could handle a _girl_. It didn't matter if her moods changed in the amount of time it took Itachi to blink, or if she was a paradox with no comparison. There was no challenge Itachi Uchiha could not overcome.

* * *

Okay. She could handle this.

No, she wasn't _entirely_ thrilled to be on the road again, walking for miles on this unending, dusty road beneath the sweltering sun in _complete _silence at such an infuriating pace, but so be it. If this was how they were going to complete their mission, then who was she to argue? No one of consequence, that's who. Not at all. So she could wait. She could. She was a kunoichi, a full grown woman, and damn it all if she couldn't be patient and well-behaved.

Oh fuck it, she was _bored_. This was torture! There were only so many clouds to watch float by, only so many leaves on the road to count, only so many times she could calculate the position of the sun in the sky and figure out which direction they were traveling in and what time it was and... She didn't even care anymore. What was the point in asking? What was the point in _knowing_? Itachi had assured her she'd be taken to Sasuke, so what work was there left for her to do? All she had to do was kill him when they found him.

Right. Like it'd be that easy.

She wasn't deluding herself anymore. If she'd run into Sasuke instead of Itachi earlier, then that would've been the end of it all for her. She couldn't make such stupid mistakes again, and if she thought she could get rid of Sasuke easily, she was as good as dead even now. Biting the inside of her cheek, she decided to ponder her strategy later. Instead, she debated her current options heavily before falling back to step in time with Kisame.

Kisame's eyes scared her. They were small and beady and every bit as animalistic as the rest of him. But what terrified her more was the way they gleamed from the inside out, shining with an intelligence unique to the most superior of shinobi. Those eyes watched her with both curiosity and amusement as she came closer to him, and even if he was six-and-a-half feet tall and built like a mountain, there was something inherently _safe_ about walking next to him. Maybe it was because she knew he wasn't allowed to hurt her, or maybe because he'd actually been kinder to her than Itachi so far. But even if he was scary as hell, she felt more or less comfortable leaning close and asking in a hushed tone why they were heading toward Iwa of all places. Of course, her trust in the largest of the Akatsuki members fell flat when he burst into a high, rumbling laughter.

"She's smart, Itachi," he snickered, and Sakura flushed heavily as Itachi paused and turned halfway to look at them. Sakura hadn't a clue what emotions his expression was composed of, but she'd choose Kisame's eyes over _that_ look any day. "She's already too scared to talk to you!"

"Shut it, fishy!" she growled without thinking, and she debated hitting him in the chest, but thought better of it when Kisame only laughed harder. She didn't want to press her luck. So instead, she crossed her arms and pouted. "I am _not_ scared."

Itachi quirked an eyebrow at her, and Kisame was gasping for breath, he was laughing so hard.

"What?" she snapped at the Uchiha, trying to ignore his teammate. "I'm not!"

It was a blatant lie, but it was a good one.

"Is that so, kunoichi?" Itachi purred, and Sakura blushed crimson head to toe as he slanted his eyes at her provocatively.

"_Yes_," Sakura hissed, not letting her defenses fall. Raising her chin, she stepped into the line of fire with a bold claim, "You need me."

"I believe I've already informed you that your importance in this matter is strictly limited," Itachi said coolly, and Sakura rolled her eyes. He wouldn't hurt her. The mantra was back. He wouldn't hurt her. He wouldn't.

"Maybe it is, but _you do want me_," she amended, and swallowed hard when Kisame began to quiet and Itachi's eyes glazed over with ice. She sucked in a breath and backtracked, trying to clear the frost in the air. "Look, I'm just the best candidate for the job!"

"How do you figure?" Itachi wondered out loud, and when he stepped closer, Sakura felt the breath rush from her lungs. Oh shit. He wouldn't hurt her. He wouldn't hurt her. He couldn't hurt her. She was safe.

"Well, I'm a medic ninja," she began, and then hurried to continue when he kept inching closer to her. Maybe if she kept talking, she could convince him he _did_ need her. Then he couldn't hurt her. "I can take care of my own and the child's health and make sure natural causes don't cause us any harm. I can defend us and train the child quite well. I'm no Uchiha, but I can hold my own, especially on familiar territory. I've already defected, so I've gotten rid of all the connections and bonds that would be a liability to you or Akatsuki. I'm not uncooperative. I'm smart. And as a bonus, I want this, too."

Oh, he wasn't expecting that.

He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her for a long while, his beautiful eyes slightly wider than normal, his body frozen mid-step. Kisame was silent.

"You want _what_ exactly?" he finally asked. Very slowly.

Sakura didn't hesitate.

"To have your child."

Silence. Horrible, deafening silence.

"Kisame," Itachi warned, and the sheer drop in his voice made Sakura's blood freeze. Paling, she jerked her head to the man, but he was already darting into the trees, and when Sakura turned back to Itachi, he was just inches from her face. Yelping, she pulled back instinctively, but his hands snaked out and had her in place before she could even stumble. His eyes were red with the Sharingan as he leaned in and hissed, "_I told you _not to mistake me for my brother. I am _not_ fulfilling the dream you wasted on _him_."

"Itachi…" she breathed, trying to lean away from him but failing. She'd never seen him like this. Never truly furious, but he _was_. There was no other word to describe the look he was giving her except for _pissed._ She couldn't get away. Not when she pressed her hands on his chest and pushed, not when she tried to squirm from his grasp. He only tightened his hold and brought her closer.

"You mistake yourself for a necessity, kunoichi," he growled, his breath hitting her face, hot and angry. She whimpered, flinching away as his fingers dug into her hip. "You're not. I could get rid of you as easily as I did my clan."

"Itachi, that's not—"

"My brother and I are _nothing _alike," he said, voice so deep, no one could have heard if they hadn't been as close to him as she was. Hell… Her stomach flipped and as her lips began to tremble, she closed her eyes and tried to keep herself from vomiting. "You knew a weak, defenseless little boy who let all his emotions blind him. I have never made that mistake, kunoichi. And if you imagine I'd ever start with you, you'll end up like the rest of them."

Her eyes snapped open and she stared at him, pleading with her eyes.

"Itachi, _no_!" she cried, and though her voice was soft, he didn't say anything for a moment. She had an opening. His chest heaved beneath her hands. Biting her lip, she chose her words carefully. For one who was claiming to be so emotionless, he was… He was certainly riled up. Eyes blazing. Heart racing beneath her fingers… She met his gaze. "I _do_ want to do this…but not for the reason you think! Please… I'm sure it's silly and trivial to someone like you, but…but you aren't _me_, and _that's_ who I'm doing this for. Me. So it doesn't matter if you don't understand, because this… I need to make sure I still have a purpose in this life… Because…"

She closed her eyes and turned away. She couldn't look at those eyes. Not when her voice was cracking and she was coming so close to breaking. He said nothing. His grip on her wasn't quite as bruising as it had been before, but she was still pinned.

"Because your brother took that away from me. I'm a shinobi…but I'm also a woman. And I can't live without feeling like it's for something bigger than me. That's why I could never confuse the two of you… Because you have done the opposite of what Sasuke did to me. Itachi… I know I mean nothing to you. And I… I'm okay with that. But you gave me purpose again, a place in life, and for that, I am so grateful. Doing this for you, to the fullest extent of my abilities, is something I want to do simply to thank you."

She paused, breathed in, then went on.

"Besides that, I thought I'd given up my chance of having any children when I defected from Konoha," she admitted, opening her eyes and frowning at her hands on his chest. His breathing was still harder than it should have been. "So I guess I _am _fulfilling a childhood dream, but it has nothing to do with you or Sasuke. Just me. I mean, it _is_ ironic…that the father…of my child is going to be an Uchiha after all… After everything I was stupid enough to believe in when I was little…after all the growing up I forced myself to do… _But I'm happy doing this_. I know it's too much to ask for, but I want your trust, Itachi. As much of it as you can give. I want Sasuke out of my head…and I want your child. If it still upsets you that much, then just kill me. It would be a mercy to us both."

The longer they stood there, the harder it became to breath. It wouldn't be long before she'd be close to passing out. She wanted to run, wanted to curl into a ball, wanted to disappear, but he kept her in place, and as the seconds ticked by, the atmosphere slowly suffocated her. What the hell was wrong with her? Why would she tell him that? What had taken over her?

There was no way he couldn't feel her fear. Her previous bluff stood no chance to the state he had so easily reduced her to. For all her brave claims, that was all she was. Afraid. But if he could feel her fear, could he feel everything else? Everything she was willing to give him…?

She gasped when his hand left her hip, slid up her body at a painstaking pace. Up past her waist, around the curve of her ribs, over her shoulder, right to her throat. Oh god. She bit back a sob and closed her eyes again, bowing her head as his fingers curled tenderly around her neck. This was it. She'd asked for it, and this was his answer. She trembled, acutely aware of his fingers pressing the back of her neck, his thumb caressing the hollow at the base of her throat just above her collarbone. Her life so easily, so trustingly put in his hands. So at his mercy.

But his grip never tightened. Instead, he used the leverage to tilt her head back until her gaze met his. Deep, beautiful ebony gazed into her, so open, so warm, so _not_ terrifyingly Uchiha. And as she gasped, slow and deep, she voiced the first thought that struck her.

"You look nothing like Sasuke."

And then he kissed her.

* * *

**Alrighty, now here's some of the stuff I wanted to discuss. In the first scene, we see Itachi and Leader's dominance struggle. I've made Itachi's character slightly arrogant in this fanfiction, so there is a clear grudge in having to give Leader submission and obedience. Leader is careful with Itachi, because though his powers are unknown at this point (they really were for me when I first wrote this; his identity hadn't been introduced yet in the anime), he still wants to keep things as low-key as possible. He decides that he will wait it out and make his move on Itachi's heir at the right time rather than cause confrontation before the child has been born. Leader is a strategic man, not one for brute force. **

**So, in the original, the way Sakura acted toward Itachi literally made me sick. I have no idea why I made her act like a stupid, jittery girl, blatantly mocking Itachi. I kept making faces the entire time I was reading it. I changed her behavior to demure, and then explained her actions later. She's made the decision to be more cooperative, because she's found light. Rather than moping, feeling sorry for herself, she's found a possible route to happiness (something she hasn't had in years). Shutting out everything else, she lets herself fall into the inevitable trap of focusing solely on Itachi. The thing a little girl would do. Watch out; this becomes important as we move forward. **

**AnimeCountDown**


	8. Two Steps Forward

There was nothing kind about that kiss.

It was unforgiving and powerful and raw and all things utterly _perfect_. She gasped in shock as his lips found hers, but in that moment, something snapped and clicked and locked securely into place, and before she knew it, she was kissing him back. Her mind crumbled to pieces, taken over by the feelings swarming her brain like an army. Everything tingled and thrummed with passion, with the warmth hiding beneath his cold exterior. It all poured into her, and it flooded all her rational thought, all her fear, all her inhibitions, out her pores, never to be worried about again.

She moaned softly against his mouth, and curled her fingers into the fabric of his cloak, lifting up onto her toes to mold her body against his. Here, she reveled in the safety he promised. Here, she found sanctuary. Here, she found her place. Here, she knew she was home. This was what she wanted. Who she wanted.

His lips fought against hers, staking claims of territory and dominance as his right hand pulled her hips closer and his left held her head in place. She could not think of a more perfect thing at the moment than those lips. Hard, unrelenting, carved to fit to hers ideally. She didn't want to let go. She wanted him. Wanted him like she had never wanted anyone. She'd never felt like this. Never.

Lightning, fire—they had nothing on what transpired between them in that kiss. It was hot, primal, natural, and Sakura didn't want to stop. She wanted to keep going, wanted to take more, wanted to _give _more. Wanted to give _everything_. She had never known a single kiss could be so intimate.

But then he was pulling away, and as he disappeared from her grasp, she gasped and reached out to him, but he was already too far away. Gathering her senses, she blinked at him, at his scarlet eyes, and the way they glared at her frigidly. And then it hit her. What she'd just done. What _he'd _just done.

What he'd made her feel.

"_Oh_," she breathed, putting her fingers to her lips.

There was no going back.

* * *

He couldn't _stand_ her.

Itachi flung the kunai in his fingers toward the nearest tree with a practiced flick, watching as the blade shot through the trunk and embedded itself in thick, dark wood. He frowned. He hadn't meant to throw it that hard. Hadn't been able to control himself. Steaming, he turned away, fingering the next kunai in its sheath, focusing on clearing his head. What the hell was wrong with him? He was supposed to be able to control his body flawlessly. Mind over matter. Always.

But _she _had to come along, with her pretty face, and her bemusing personality, and her damn speeches… Cursing under his breath, he chucked the other kunai, hitting the worn surface of another trunk square center. All he'd aimed to do was set things right, patch up the Uchiha legacy where he'd left it, and she'd gone and fucked it up. Damn karma.

He closed his eyes as he yanked the first kunai from its target and wrapped his fingers around it so tight the bones of his knuckles strained against his skin. He never lost control of his own body. The whole notion was entirely backwards. _He_ was supposed to mindfuck _others_. Not the other way around. She was supposed to be at _his_ mercy. Not like this.

If Leader caught wind of his vulnerability with the kunoichi…all hell would break loose.

He opened his eyes, which immediately homed in and trained on a squirrel scurrying in spurts across the forest floor. Such a harmless little creature. It would feel good to take its life. To know that in just a split second, he could make that decision, and in just as much time, _do it_. But he breathed it all away with a sigh. Killing a damn rodent wasn't going to solve anything, and resisting the urge only returned his sense of empowerment and control. The feeling _she_ so easily stripped him of. The squirrel paused and blinked at him, chattered anxiously, and then bounded away, hidden treasures clutched between its teeth.

What was he doing? Letting her under his skin like that? If this kept up…he'd go crazy. Or crazier. His little brother did that well enough without the help of the girl.

The better question was what he was going to do _now_. He couldn't openly blame the kunoichi. Doing that would be admitting his own faults, giving her unwarranted power over him. He couldn't let that happen. If he ignored it, then he was risking the possibility of losing control without meaning to again. He had to monitor himself, make sure things didn't get out of hand. He couldn't afford it.

* * *

Sakura paced the room, unable to think of anything else to do. She folded her arms, then snapped them back to her sides, gnawed on the inside of her cheek, chewed on her nails, ran her fingers through her hair, tapped her feet, shifted her weight from one side to the other, threw her hands up in frustration. She tried thinking of things to distract her. Things like Naruto, like Konoha, like jutsus she had yet to perfect. Like Sasuke.

But no matter what, flashbacks of Itachi's lips on hers and his cold eyes afterward kept jumping into her head and scattering all her thoughts. She groaned again, putting her head in her hands and squeezing, as if the pressure could force the unwanted feelings out of her head. Why was she putting so much thought into this? It was just a kiss. Itachi was just a man. It was no big deal. For Christ's sake, she'd signed up to have _sex_ with him. She paled just thinking about it. Hell, if one kiss could do this to her, what would it be like to have his hands all over her…his mouth all over her…his…

No, it wouldn't be like that. It'd be strictly business.

But that kiss wasn't business. That kiss had been anything _but_ business. That had been a screaming declaration of passion, a flaming banner with the words _"I want you"_ in bold capitol letters. That kiss had struck her to the core, had left her tingling _everywhere_. The sensation still resided somewhere deep, just beneath her stomach, and no amount of fidgeting or walking could shake it out of her.

She cringed and slumped in an armchair by the door. Kisame was taking up the entire bed, completely knocked out, as if their trek had wiped him out. Shit, they'd not so much as jogged since they set off, and the man acted as if he'd been running marathons every day. Wasn't he supposed to be watching her? She glowered at the man bitterly, knowing that if she so much as turned the door handle, he'd probably be up and on her in a heartbeat. He probably wasn't even really asleep. Though his snoring sure was convincing…

Crossing her arms, she drew her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. Maybe the first kiss would be the most awkward… If there was even a second one. But if there was…maybe it wouldn't be such a huge deal… Maybe Itachi just needed to sort through things, too. He'd stormed off as soon as they'd checked in. Hadn't even come to the room, just commanded that Kisame bring her up and keep her on lockdown until he returned. Like she'd think of running _now_. There was no way she would.

Not after that kiss.

Damn it all! She knew she was being childish and girly and stupid again, but that kiss had _done things_ to her. She'd gone on dates, had kissed boys before, but nothing had ever left her like _that_. Full of need and wanting. And as if she hadn't wanted this life before…now she wanted _Itachi_ as well. And no amount of beating herself up over it could change it. She knew she shouldn't have feelings for him. Even if they were purely basic, primal, lusting feelings. They were still feelings.

And that was the one warning Itachi had given her.

No emotions.

But he was so…_Uchiha_. Those men were genetically engineered to be desirable, and she was only human! Only a woman! She was a mere mortal compared to his demi-god existence. If only… Maybe if he could come to terms with the fact that _he_ wanted her too… She bit her lip He _did_, didn't he? He'd reacted so strangely when she'd said that… And…and, well…

He'd kissed her first.

She blushed and glanced in Kisame's direction. Hell, this wasn't working. He couldn't just kiss her like that and then leave her to go sulk while she was feeling…like _this_. So pent up. So charged. The mere thought of the heat in her belly made her ache with discomfort. She wanted release, but… How? She sure as hell wasn't getting it from moody Mr. Uchiha, and there was no way she was handling it herself with shark boy on guard duty. That could have a number of disastrous consequences.

How annoying.

Curling in on herself, she closed her eyes and fought the urge to cry. How many times had she cried for Sasuke? How many times had she put up with the memories of him taunting her? She wasn't going to break and cry for Itachi, too. To hell with that.

She'd gotten into this mess by her own carelessness, and she'd fix it in whatever way that she could. Like fighting Sasuke, there was no point in building up a strategy to face Itachi. Why bother? The man was an absolute enigma, and the only way she'd be able to meet him on level ground was if she was secure with herself. That was the only way. As long as she knew what she wanted, knew her own limits, and knew where she wanted this to go. Then they could figure out how they'd work this out.

With that dim shard of light in her mind, Sakura drifted to sleep.

She awoke warm. Blinking her eyes open, Sakura stifled a yawn and shifted beneath the soft black fabric draped over her body. It took her a moment to recognize the pattern of swirling red clouds. The cloak dwarfed her petite figure, and as she shifted into a more comfortable position, it slid off her shoulders and crumpled in her lap. She stared at it before looking up.

She knew what she was looking for, but it still took her breath away when she saw him. Leaning against the wall on the far side of the hotel room, head bowed, eyes closed, breathing steady.

Cloakless.

She glanced down at the article of clothing and made a split second decision, pushing it aside and standing silently. She crept across the room, noiseless as air, to where Itachi stood. Sleeping standing up. She inwardly snorted. Now _that_ was something she'd never learn to do. She leaned close to him, inspecting his face, something she could never do when he was awake.

He was truly beautiful for a man. With long, narrow eyes and his thick black eyelashes. Those eyes, as terrifying as he was, were the loveliest, most youthful thing about him. The creases set in the inner corners of his cheeks, his strong nose, and the sharp curves of his lips and jaw gave him a striking appearance very unlike Sasuke's boyish one. And that hair… She pursed her lips. She had a weakness for dark hair. Not like _hers_. It just always looked so…shiny. Touchable.

He didn't _look_ like a murderer, that was for sure. Not with his eyes closed. Without his cloak, she could see the definition of his muscles beneath his thin mesh shirt, and his cropped pants hung low on his hips. His body was as honed as any other shinobi, but he didn't scream danger. Itachi's appearance didn't really _scream_ anything. Not when he was like this. It was more like a soft, hypnotic lull. A call that pulled her in closer, and closer…

Gently, she pressed her lips to his.

Soft, but firm, she kissed him. With his head tilted down like that, it was easy to reach his mouth, but she placed her hands on his shoulders for balance just in case.

She knew the exact moment he woke up. His body went from still to _still_. Tense, alert, and coiled. But he didn't move for a long moment. Either debating how to react or giving her an opportunity to retreat. Before she could chicken out, however, he lifted his hands to her waist, his fingers glancing over her ribs experimentally before curling around her back and pulling her dangerously close. Her breath caught as she fell into him, and as her mouth opened to his, he pressed down on her tenderly, his lips moving slow and hot against hers.

Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt; it was the only thing she could hear. It made her weak and numb, and her brain melted in time with all the muscles in her body. Oh, that_ kiss_. It was just as perfect as the first. Where the other had been raw and powerful, this one was dangerous. Slow, careful, hesitant. But there was something dark beneath it, something building at the core of both of them, something they both held back. And if he hadn't been holding her like that, so firmly, she might have collapsed. Her knees shook and her arms trembled between their chests, but his hold on her was resolute. He wouldn't let her go. Oh, the relief. He wasn't abandoning her. He hadn't changed his mind.

She hadn't realized she'd feared he would until that relief hit her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured as she pulled away. She was grateful—and smug as hell—to find that he'd been just as affected by the kiss as she. His eyes were smothered with clouds of lust and his breathing was shallow against her lips. She gazed at him through half-open eyes. "I just wanted to make sure."

"Of what?"

God, that _voice_. It got so _low_ when he was like this. She swallowed.

"That you still wanted me," she said carefully, fearful for a moment that her brave claim would set him off again. But he only tilted his head minutely and watched her. After a moment, she let out a sigh and cleared her throat. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something. A favor."

His eyebrow popped up.

"Yes?"

"Could you…" She took a deep breath, trying to ignore their proximity, the way he was watching her, the way his thumbs pressed into her flesh just beneath her breasts. She peered up at him carefully. "Could you not call me 'kunoichi' anymore? It's annoying."

He watched her silently for a long moment, and she watched him back as patiently as she knew how. She could only press him so far, and if she was going to initiate this…_thing_, she had to leave him his space, his freedom, his dominance. If she wanted to make progress with him, she'd have to leave him most of the power. She sucked in a breath as he shifted, his fingers brushing dangerously upward. His eyes lit and his brow rose a little higher, but he didn't continue the gesture. Just watched her.

"You could have asked," he finally murmured, and when she blinked at him, he elaborated slowly, softly, at his own pace. He was thinking it all through, too. "I still want you."

"Oh," she breathed out, eyes round, heart stuttering. _He did not just say that out loud._

He either didn't think it mattered or was smoothly ignoring the fact that it _really fucking did_.

"You don't wish to be called by your title?" he inquired, and she shook herself out of her daze, forcing herself to focus on his words. _Focus_.

"Um, no," she breathed, shifting in his hold. He didn't make any move to let go, and she couldn't decide whether she wanted him to or not. On one hand, there was nowhere else she'd rather be, but on the other hand, it was getting _really _hard to think. Clinging to some fragment of her mind that was still coherent, she explained, "You don't hear me addressing you as 'Akatsuki member' or 'shinobi' or 'S-class-criminal' do you?"

At first, the blank stare he gave her made her want to bite off her tongue, but then the corner of his lip twitched up in that trademark Uchiha smirk. He looked cocky when he did that. A little more like Sasuke. She ducked her head, breaking eye contact for the first time since she'd kissed him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she muttered, insecure beneath his gaze. When she glanced up at him, though, his smirk widened…and then the other corner rose up to level with the other…his lips parting in what was almost…a smile.

And then he laughed.

It was a brief, hardly audible noise, but she'd swear on her life she'd heard it. Her lips parted, and she had to concentrate on that light in his bottomless eyes to make sure she wasn't imagining things. Such a beautiful, effortless sound. Before she could recover, he leaned forward and brushed her lips with his gently.

"I find you fascinating…_Sakura_," he told her, his eyes gazing into hers. Warm and alight, and so breath-takingly full of what might have been the potential for compassion… Her face was warm as he bent down and kissed her more fully. Slowly, taking his time to become accustomed to the feeling. Using his opportunities. When he pulled away, he whispered, "Do not fear me anymore, Sakura. I will not waste you."

His words resounded as richly as his kisses. Unable to think of any other reply, she took his head in her hands and pulled him into another kiss, one that spoke more heavily than any response ever could. And it was with joy that she accepted his firm embrace, and the return of her kiss. She hadn't known how badly she'd wanted those words.

She'd wanted them more than even her dreams had known.

* * *

**So, Itachi's all pissed at himself because he lost control, and he must have control no matter what (a point to be noted in the future). However, his behavior in the squirrel scene (yes, I just said that) and in the last one are dramatically different. Strategic thinker that he is, he decides that exploring this route will make things less difficult than denying that they're happening. So, he consents to his desires hesitantly, giving himself a moment of reprieve from his stoic lifestyle. And finds it's easier than he remembered. **

**Sakura's just sexually frustrated. Haha, no, but we see her willingness to let herself attach her hopes to Itachi: "Not after that kiss." Knowing that he's attracted to her and that their union is inevitable, she lets her guard down and unconsciously begins to emotionally depend on him. You know that type of girl who's never happy unless she has a boyfriend/romantic interest? The type of people I hate? Itachi's kindling that girl back to life, because now, she has an option. She's still blocking her feelings about Konoha/Naruto, though.**

**AnimeCountDown**


	9. Trust Me

They spent the rest of that morning sitting in a comfortable silence, eating breakfast at the table. She took the time as they were sitting to pull her chair up close enough to his that her knee could rest against his if she sat cross-legged. He gazed at her quietly as she did it, but she ignored him, acutely aware that he knew why she was doing what she was doing. But he didn't say anything, so he must not have minded. In fact, she could have sworn she saw a hint of a smile.

She was content not speaking as they dined on the meal the innkeeper brought to their room. It was a slightly bigger, more luxurious meal than what they were used to—usually they just picked small morsels out of their reserves. Instead, she was surprised with a layout of fish, egg omelets, rice, warm bread, fresh fruit, and hot tea. As she munched, taking her time to appreciate such a meal, she contemplated whether or not Itachi had treated her deliberately. Was it a peace treaty, an apology, or just an act of kindness?

Maybe the hotel was just very customer friendly.

They headed out just about as soon as Kisame got back with new supplies; he must have eaten in his room or out in town. Thankfully, he seemed more or less oblivious to the change that had taken place between Itachi and Sakura, so she let it be and went on with things as she normally did.

And soon they were on the dirt road again, striding through fields and small forests-none as impressive as the ones in the Land of Fire. The land grew sparser the further they traveled, and Sakura knew they'd soon be trekking across hard rock if they didn't change direction soon. For a good while, they traveled in silence. She was proud of herself, not asking any questions. For the first time, she didn't feel the need to. She was…content. She was relaxed. She was happy.

"So where are we headed anyway?"

Sakura stopped in her tracks and swiveled around, unable to keep her eye from twitching.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" she exclaimed, gaping at Kisame incredulously. He blinked at her, a smile playing at his lips as she twisted back around to stare at the back of Itachi's head. He was still walking. Like he hadn't _heard_. "_Fishy _doesn't even know where we're going? Do _you_?"

"Yes," Itachi answered evenly, stopping to look back at her calmly. He didn't _look_ pissed. But his voice was low. She scowled at him.

"Oh, don't try to scare me," she retorted, putting her hands on her hips and ignoring the brilliant amusement in his eyes. "Can't you just tell me where we're going?"

"You never asked," he answered.

She stared at him.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" she yelled, throwing her hands in the air, even as Kisame chuckled. "I've been asking you this entire time!"

"You asked when our destination was one of Akatsuki's bases," Itachi explained, eyes alight and his smirk making its trademark squeeze on her heart. "Since we left, you haven't asked once."

"I was _trying _to be _nice_," she growled, glowering at Itachi.

"No one asked you to be nice," he replied silkily, his voice dropping another octave. Shit, she couldn't _think_ when he did that.

"Well, you told me to shut up," she snapped, crossing her arms and pouting.

"I never did such a thing," he claimed, then added, "And if I had, you wouldn't have listened, _Sakura_. Women like you only follow their own orders."

"_Women like_…?" she spluttered, face turning red, fists curling. She glared at him indignantly. How _dare_ he compare her to other women? "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you are like an Uchiha," he replied, so readily, she almost spoke before she realized what he'd said. She deflated, tongue tied.

"_Huh_?"

It was the best she could manage.

"Uchiha women were even more independent than Uchiha men," he answered, his gaze locking with hers in a suddenly _very_ private manner. "In order to run the clan, the women needed to be stubborn and tougher than their opponents. They had twice the duties of their partners, making sure the households ran smoothly, doubling their lives as shinobi with that of daughters, wives, and mothers. Nearly all Uchiha women fought alongside their fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons, all for the same reasons we did, but with the special title of 'kunoichi'. Rather than bloodlust and pride, they used their love and protectiveness to defend their village and family. With that combination, Uchiha women were regarded as an overwhelming force, one often more terrifying and powerful than their male counterparts… It seems you won't be letting that legacy down, will you?"

She stared at him again.

"Is that a compliment?" she finally spit out, and he smiled. Even Kisame laughed.

"It's whatever you want it to be," he replied, but she knew the answer, even if he wanted to play his seductive little games: _yes_.

"Well, maybe I think it sounds like a compliment," she said. His smile didn't falter.

"Then it is a compliment," he said, sounding like such a gentleman as he did. She eyed him warily.

"What if I thought it was an insult?" she tried, but he stumped her again by inclining his head respectfully.

"Then I would apologize," he answered. She didn't say anything for a moment.

"You aren't what I expected," she said quietly, crossing her arms and studying him.

"And what exactly did you expect?" he asked.

"Someone evil," Sakura murmured, kicking at the ground uncomfortably. She chose her next words on a whim. "Someone like Sasuke."

He didn't like that answer. All the playfulness drained from his eyes, and his smile faded into its regular, thin line. It was as if he'd never warmed up in the first place. Just like that, all her hard work was gone.

"We should go," he said, but she spoke up as he was turning back around.

"I was wrong," she called out, tilting her head, and smiling softly when he paused and kept his eyes on her. They were untrusting and wary…but eager. "And I'm glad. I told you, you _aren't_ what I expected. You aren't like him. But I lived with Sasuke in my life for eighteen years. He was all I knew of Uchiha men, and he was all I knew of you. What might you have expected of me? Please be patient. You're Itachi Uchiha to me now, not just Sasuke's older brother. You have a face and a voice and a persona now, where before you were only a name and a crime. Can you blame me for not knowing you?"

"I could," he said without pausing, but before the pain could register, he sighed and said more softly, "But I won't."

_Oh_. The realization hit her. He_ cared_ what she thought of him. She wanted to kiss him, but settled for a smile. They still had company after all. That would have to wait. But for now…he just needed to know that _she cared too_.

"Thank you."

* * *

Sakura loved water. It was one of those things that—as a shinobi—she would never take for granted. Smiling giddily, she shut her eyes and sank into the steaming pool until the water lapped at her cheeks. It soaked her skin right through, making her nerves tingle and her bones loose. Such a pleasant feeling could only come from a natural hot spring, one of the best things about the Land of Earth. They had the best hot springs in all the shinobi countries.

She'd finished washing long ago and had spent the past half hour just wading, drifting in and out of consciousness. It was the first time she'd felt her mind clear in so long. It was the steam. Soft and pillowy, it cushioned her darkest thoughts and kept her pleasant ones out of harm's way. Thoughts of Konoha, Naruto, and Sasuke were on a temporary ban right now.

Which left what to think about? _Oh yes_. The god in her hotel room that would soon father her child. Or children.

Whichever.

She felt too at ease to worry about it anymore. In fact…a secret, dirty part of her was looking forward to it now. Seeing that real, _human_ part of Itachi had given her some equal footing, and from there, they had begun to tie their first bonds. It was dangerous and tricky, but it felt so right, she paid no attention to all the warning bells in the back of her mind. Every kiss, every touch, every glance he might have thought she didn't catch… He was addicting. And she wanted more and more of him, no matter what the cost.

And that was perfectly acceptable, considering she'd never be allowed to have anything else. If she was going to do this and go through with it and _live_ with it, then why the hell shouldn't she let herself enjoy it? Enjoy him? Her mind began to whisper all the many reasons why _liking_ the situation was wrong, but she shut them all out by dipping her head in the hot water briefly. Yes, that was the trick. Heat could do such marvelous things.

Itachi wasn't a horrible man to love. He was brilliant, gorgeous, and powerful. Even all the awful things he'd done…she knew he must have had his reasons, and she was still determined to dig in deeper and find out why. But he'd begun to treat her gently, and aside from scaring the hell out of her occasionally, he'd done nothing to hurt her so far. Not like Sasuke had. And—

She popped her head out of the water and blinked.

She did _not _just think that.

Frowning, she flipped her hair back from her forehead and rubbed the water out of her eyes. Scooting back onto a rock, she chewed on her lip and stared at the water. She wasn't really considering that word… That word she never thought she'd use for anyone again. No, _no_, Itachi had told her not to do that. Primal lust was one thing. But love…?

Sighing, she shook her head and smiled, skimming her fingers over the surface of the pool and leaning back onto the smooth, water-worn stone. No, she didn't love him. It was just habit that was making her think like that. It was because he was _there_ and _available_ and the only option left for her. That was all. She didn't actually… She couldn't. It wasn't a possibility. End of story.

She hummed and shut her eyes, letting a thick blanket fall over her mind. There was no need to think so hard. In fact, she bet she could go without thinking hard ever again. And at the moment, she didn't care what kind of woman that made her.

At the moment, she just wanted to be happy.

* * *

Itachi Uchiha was not a stranger to peculiar situations. He'd been a thirteen-year-old ANBU captain giving orders to shinobi twice his age. He'd looked his mother in the eye and stabbed her through the heart. He'd tortured his younger brother's mind a countless number of times.

But only now did Itachi understand the word "awkward".

"Stop staring at me," he demanded, not looking up from his whet stone as he sharpened his katana. He didn't even know why he still had it; he rarely used the damn thing. Kisame sighed and leaned forward over his knees.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing, Itachi?" he said, voice wary. Kisame and Itachi had a silent agreement of mutual respect, but somewhere along the way, the older man had seemed to grow fond of Itachi. It could have been a toss-up as to who was more superior, but they'd always gotten along, and occasionally, Kisame treated him gently like this. Like he might snap. "You're letting your emotions get to you."

"I don't have emotions," Itachi answered, ignoring Kisame's scowl of disagreement. The man had never feared him. Kisame feared no one. So Itachi's glare didn't work on him. "Yes, I know what I'm doing."

"Sure," he chuckled lightly, sitting back and crossing his arms over his massive chest. "So _this_ is what all those fancy Konoha academies teach you. How to restore the entire clan _you destroyed_ with a woman _who loved your brother _without becoming emotionally involved. Piece of cake."

"I will stick this through your eye," Itachi warned, tilting his sword in Kisame's direction. His threat only made Kisame laugh. Cocking an eyebrow, he continued sharpening the blade, refusing to look at his partner.

"Okay, Itachi," Kisame sighed, standing to return to his own room. "If you end up falling for her, fine. Just don't get too caught up in anything dangerous."

"I won't fall for her," he snapped, before he could even think twice. But he knew Kisame didn't believe him. Itachi didn't even believe _himself._

In fact, he knew it was a lie.

* * *

The shuffling woke her up. She slid out of bed and onto the floor, kunai in hand, eyes darting in the direction of the noise. It was only Itachi slipping into his cloak, katana already strapped onto his back. She blinked at him and frowned. Did he have a mission this late at night? And why the hell was he being so loud? He eyed her approvingly, gave her a nod, and then moved to the window.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, eyes darting around the room. She crept toward him carefully, unsure as he slid open the window. He gestured with his head in the direction of the dry, warm air.

"Hurry," he commanded, and she took the time to glare at him before sliding into her boots and joining him at the window. She gave him another questioning look. He shook his head. "We have to go. Now."

"Why?" she asked, even as she let him hoist her over the sill cleanly. She reached up and swung herself up, clinging to the wall with her chakra and pulling herself up onto the roof. As Itachi emerged over the edge, she pinned him with another look. "_Talk to me_, Itachi."

"Not now," he insisted, and motioned for her to follow. "Come."

"Fine," she consented, and let him take the lead.

It was the first time since they'd met that they actually moved at a decent pace. In silent haste, they travelled by rooftop to the edge of town, where they met up with Kisame a few paces away from the main road. Itachi ushered her into the woods, and then took off. It was all she could do to keep up, and for a good while, the rush felt extraordinary. She didn't know _why_ they were all of a sudden on the run, but it felt so nice, she was okay with waiting for him to explain what was going on.

But as the distance they flew over increased, and the land began to change around them, Sakura became more concerned. They were completely leaving the Earth Country behind, heading south into the Land of Grass. She pursed her lips. Why on earth would Itachi choose _this_ route? They'd only just gotten to the Earth Country's borders. They were practically backtracking.

By the time Itachi motioned for them to stop, there were no more hills of rock and the air was as crisp as it was in Konoha. As they dropped down from the branches onto the ground, Sakura huffed and whirled on Itachi.

"What's going on?" she hissed, resisting the urge to raise her voice. God forbid she did _that_. He glanced at her impatiently.

"Be quiet, Sakura," he warned, so dismissively her jaw popped open. But he was already ignoring her again, turning his back on her to address Kisame. "Scope the area. Three mile radius."

Once Kisame vanished, Sakura expected him to at least _look_ at her, but rather, he went about the small space he'd chosen and started gathering sticks. Enough to conjure up his nifty little fire. And then he settled down right in front of it. Only then did he look up at her, to where she had yet to move and gaped at him silently. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"_Yes_?" he asked warily. As if it was _strange_ that she be annoyed.

She didn't bother answering. Instead, she rolled her eyes, turned around, and found her own corner. Away from the fire, away from the light, and away from him. She sat down on her rock and refused to look at him. Neither of them said anything for a while.

"You're angry with me," Itachi commented slowly, as if it was a question instead of a statement.

"Oh yeah?" she retorted sarcastically, still making no move to meet his gaze or move his way. "So _now_ you want to tell me shit. But you know, it's a little lack luster when it's shit I _already know_."

He was quiet.

"Why?"

"Why _what_, Itachi?" she bit, finally swiveling to glare at him. He raised an eyebrow at the look she gave him, but otherwise seemed unbothered.

"Why are you angry?" he asked, his tone at that same low, cautious level he had been using with her recently. She stared at him.

"Are you stupid?" she asked. Both of his eyebrows shot up at that. Fuck it, she didn't care anymore. "Or do you just deliberately do things to piss me off all the time? Because _all _I wanted was a little communication. I just wanted to know what was going on."

"You don't need to know," he said calmly. And as Sakura debated on whether or not she could land a punch to his face if she moved quick enough, he lowered his voice and said more gently, "Sakura, trust me."

"Why should I?" she snapped.

"Because I am trying to do the same for you," he answered, so quietly she could hardly hear. She blinked, then paled. _Oh damn_. His gaze never lost its intensity as he stared her down. "It has to be mutual."

She swallowed and stared down at her hands, trying to think of something to say that didn't sound utterly lame in her head. Taking a deep breath, twisting her fingers, she backpedaled.

"Okay," she agreed, sucking on her bottom lip as she thought. She felt so _numb_. She knew she was feeling something, but the sensation was smothered, sedated, buzzing just below the surface. She was waiting for it—whatever it was—to hit her. "The only other Uchiha I put my trust in stabbed me in the back. But I'll try. For you."

"Thank you," he replied, and all of a sudden, everything she hadn't felt a moment ago struck her hard. The relief, the bliss, the joy, the _fear_. That face, that voice, those _words_. She flinched back without meaning. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no," she dismissed, waving her hand in the air even as she made a face. "It's nothing. Just those words. I don't like them very much."

"Thank you?" he repeated questioningly, and she nodded. _Yes_, she wanted to say as he quirked his brow at her again, _I'm crazy. _He was using his gentle, wary tone again. "May I ask why?"

"Your brother," she sighed, rolling her eyes up to the sky. Inhaling deeply, she elaborated quickly, "It was the last thing he said to me the night he left Konoha, after I tried to get him to stay. He called me annoying, thanked me, then knocked me unconscious and left me on a bench for someone to find me in the morning."

"My brother is an undeserving fool," Itachi murmured, so quickly in response, she blinked up at him in surprise. He was staring at her, the flames licking light and shadows across his stony face. And then he stood and came to her slowly and quietly. She watched him with wide eyes as he knelt in front of her, that serious, contemplative look on his face… She'd never seen that look before. "Why do you care? Why does what he did bother you?"

"Because I'm stupid," she laughed bitterly. When his eyes narrowed, she shrugged and tried to find something to look at other than that persistently hypnotic gaze of his. "I don't know. I'm…just a sentimental person. I'm a girl. I'm emotional."

"Don't be," Itachi murmured. She blinked at him, bewildered. Was he giving her _advice_? "Emotions weaken you."

"Not always," she argued, frowning and shaking her head slowly. "Emotions can make you stronger sometimes, too."

"How?" he asked, his forehead creased in thought, his eyes hot and searching and on her. She hesitated.

"Like…do you want an example?" she asked. He nodded. "Well…um, back at Konoha, I had teammates that were more like family to me than fellow ninja."

"The fox," Itachi commented. Sakura paused, staring at him for a moment before nodding slowly.

"Yes, Naruto," she corrected, but he didn't even acknowledge it. He probably didn't even notice. "Well, I love that kid. And loving him makes me want to protect him with all I've got. When I'm with him, his strength inspires me, and his kindness and who he is makes me work hard to make sure I'm worthy of being on his team. My love for him helps me fight harder. It's just another form of motivation."

"But…" he hesitated, his frown foreign on his lips. He was thinking hard, and Sakura could see it was _almost there_, but it was if he'd shut off all connections to that kind of thought process. "Wasting your time on caring for something inhibits you from becoming stronger. If you let yourself care, then you leave yourself open for someone to use it against you."

"Well, what do you care about?" she asked. It'd be easier to explain if she could apply her philosophy to his own life. It was possible he was just rejecting the idea in his head. There was no way he didn't _actually_ feel. Sakura knew better than that. But he just stared at her blankly. "What really matters to you? What do you fight for? What keeps you from giving up?"

He thought for a long time, pondering the question over as analytically as a single mind could, searching it at every angle, staring at her the entire while. And she gave him time. Lord knew he needed it if he had to think that hard…

"Life," he answered, and for some reason, she recognized her own surprise. "Living. I fight to live."

"Okay…" she said, thinking of how to mold something like _that_ into her formula. "Alright, what do you feel when you think you're about to die?"

He blinked at her.

"Sorry?"

"Oh, don't be an ass," she said, scowling at him lightheartedly. His lips twitched up just a little—oh, him and his funny little sense of humor. She fixed him with her eyes and rephrased. "_If_ you were about to die, what do you _think_ you'd feel?"

"Nothing," he said, and when she moved to protest, he explained, "If I felt like I was truly about to die, I would simply die. There's nothing I could do to change it, so what would be the point?"

"Come _on_," she groaned, rolling her eyes again at him. "Nobody is completely void of their emotions."

"Yes, I am," he insisted, and when that smirk tugged at his lips again, she _knew_.

"Oh really?" she inquired, crossing her arms over her chest. "And you're sure about that?"

"Completely," he answered, his smile growing. She let him think about it for a few more seconds. Gave him a chance to figure it out. But he didn't.

And then she attacked.

* * *

**Sakura is beginning to recognize her own mistake in falling for Itachi, but then sinks into denial by telling herself that even if she deludes herself, it can't be real. More naivety, but a conscious effort to remain unattached. She is becoming increasingly more comfortable with Itachi. As seen in the last paragraph. **

**I tried to keep the humor in there, even if Itachi is frustrated that she can bait him so easily. As long as they are alone, and she doesn't cross any lines, he lets himself become a different person with her. A break. A reprieve. He enjoys the normalcy. And he enjoys the companionship. **

**AnimeCountDown**


	10. Color

One second she was eyeing him unhappily.

And in the next, she was leaping on top of him. For a moment, Itachi didn't know _what_ to think. Was she still pissed? Was she trying to hurt him? Was she actually crazy? He acted on instinct, reaching out to grab the weak spot just above her hips, but he hesitated once he had. Shit, he didn't want to _hurt_ her.

But then her body melted against his and her lips assaulted his with skill he'd not known the small woman possessed. His body responded immediately, and he pressed his thumbs to where he held her, pulling her closer and fitting his mouth to hers. It had become natural so quickly. Itachi was hardly inexperienced, but by general standards, he kept his intimate encounters to a minimum. Yet there was nothing awkward or forced about the way his fingers found that small, delicate place beneath her breasts or how his blood lit on fire and rushed eagerly to his groin. The adrenaline was as satisfying as it was in battle, but there was something extra in the heat he felt when she licked his bottom lip like _that_, when she raked her fingernails down his chest like _that_, when she mewled so sweetly into his mouth like _that_. The pressure against his ribs and in his cock was something exhilaratingly new.

And then she jerked away, lifting her chin out of reach when he chased her lips. He nearly went after her throat in return, but her bright jade eyes caught him and pulled him in, and he stared, wide-eyed, nerves on the peak of exploding. Hell, she'd _caught him off guard_. That…that was dangerous. She couldn't do that. Oh, but _he wanted her to_. The rush it brought… His chest swelled as he throbbed beneath her.

"So?" she gasped, breathless, eyes calculating and seductive. He blinked, and as she reached up to caress his cheek gently, half-lidded eyes smoky and hot, she asked innocently, "What did _that_ make you feel?"

"That?" he repeated, and was pleased to find he sounded relatively calm. Even with her looking like _that_, lying on _top_ of him. She leaned in to him, nodding, gaze never leaving his, small breasts pressing against him. He opened his mouth. "Adrenaline."

She stilled. Then she lifted an eyebrow.

"Adrenaline," she echoed, voice low. And _not_ in a good way.

So, that _wasn't_ the right answer.

He paused and gave it some more thought, straining to fight the barriers that blocked such trivial things from his thought process. He didn't _need_ emotions. But if she _wanted_ him to feel them that damn bad… Pressing his lips in a line, he pieced together the way he'd reacted. Adrenaline. Heart thudding. Blood pumping. Hard. As hell.

"Excitement," he conceded, and while she still looked mildly disappointed, she nodded.

"That's appropriate," she sighed, and then moved to push away from him. He immediately coiled, locking her in place. Her eyes slanted to his, alert.

"_Longing_," he murmured, and the flush that word brought to her cheeks made him want to reach down to brush his nose against hers. So he did, and smiling, he continued. "Satisfaction. Gratitude… Hope."

"For what?" she gasped, and he loved that he could make her sound like that. He loved that he could make her feel that way. He hummed and kissed her quickly before drawing back.

"My success," he said quietly, and when she frowned at him in confusion, he almost fixed his statement. _Our success._ But he didn't. "Happy now?"

"Well, those _are_ emotions," she laughed, peering at him peculiarly. "What'd you think they were?"

"Reactions," he sighed, leaning back on his hands. She made no move to stand or switch positions or do something _other_ than straddle his legs. Any farther up and she'd discover the damn problem her investigating had created. "I know what they are, Sakura. But when I think of them as reactions instead of emotions, they're temporary and very easy to ignore. They become insignificant, and it's easier for me to function without them."

"Ignoring them isn't good for you," she said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. "You're damaging your own brain, damn it."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"So what, you're just on autopilot?" she asked, and he shrugged. "Did your parents raise you to think like that?"

"I raised _myself_ to think like that," he told her. "When I was a child, focusing on my emotions made things difficult for me. If I thought about the way things made me feel, I couldn't always carry out my missions or perform tasks to the fullest of my abilities. I knew lingering on my feelings was holding me back, so I shut them off. Thinking in black and white made me a better shinobi. It eliminated all the complications of politics, morals, and bonds and helped me focus on my training. I achieved the highest control over my own body and mind that I could find. I like it that way."

She looked horrified.

"That sounds awful."

"But, Sakura, that's the point," he said, smiling at her softly. She was just like the others. She couldn't _understand_. "_I didn't care._"

"Oh…"

"Although…I was never fully able to ignore the way my father made me feel," he continued, almost without realizing it. Her eyes snapped to his, large and watchful, but he wasn't bothered by it anymore. "He always expected me to give more, no matter how perfect I was. He singled me out and ignored my brother like he didn't exist. I became this way to train harder, to excel further…for him. But when I began to change, he shunned me... Like I had done something _wrong_ by becoming his perfect tool... I hated him… I enjoyed killing him… He may be the reason I decided to finally defect. At the time, it just seemed like the logical thing to do. But maybe he motivated me to do it and I never realized. Maybe it was my hatred all along."

When he focused back in on her, she was crying. Jolting upward, he brought his hands to hers, where they lay cupped over her mouth. Even as his fingers brushed hers, she shook her head, flinching away from his touch. He hesitated, then drew his hand back. No… No, she couldn't _do that_. Not after everything he'd just done.

"No, I'm sorry, Itachi," she sobbed into her hands. The look on his face must have been serious, because she waved her hand, closing her eyes, signaling for him to wait. And after another moment, she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck. He sat, stunned, frozen. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't _know_."

"Nobody did," he said unsurely, taking her shoulders and pulling her off of him. She sniffled and gazed at him demurely from beneath her lashes. "Sakura, it's fine. You don't have to pity me. I'm not the one who's dead."

"But you…that kind of life…" She sighed and deflated. "Black and white. I get that kind of terminology. But to think that a child could be so brilliant that he could understand that and think that it was a more effective way to be a shinobi…at such a young age… Itachi, you say you fight for life, but you haven't _lived_ at all."

"Sakura…" he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Her words…they alone woke parts of him he didn't recognize.

"Oh, _Itachi_," she whimpered, finding her place wrapped around his neck once more. In his ear, she whispered sweetly, "Please let me cry for you."

He couldn't help it that he hesitated. But he rested his chin on her shoulder and engulfed her in his arms. There was no fighting this woman. Not with her heartbroken for him. Not _over_ him, but _for_ him. Not now.

Not when she made him feel like _this_.

* * *

He tapped her shoulder lightly, and it was all she needed to stir awake. It wasn't like the night before, when she'd been ready and armed in the blink of an eye. Tonight, she frowned first, then blinked her eyes rapidly awake, slowly coming to. Her gaze found his and he put his finger to his lips in silent command, gesturing for her to stand with him. She did so compliantly, but she never stopped frowning.

"Are you ready to fight?" he asked, and the crease of her frown deepened. She eyed him questioningly until he said softly, "Sasuke."

"He's here?" she breathed, and even not touching her, he felt her coil. Maybe he was becoming that familiar with her mannerisms, but he knew that stance of hers. She was ready to strike. "Where?"

"Nearby," he promised, nodding. "If you're ready…we can leave now. He's not even a league away. You can decide what speed we travel at."

Her eyes widened slightly at his offer, but the initial shock of it quickly gave way to her excitement. She contained it impressively, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and chewing slowly as she gave her options a thorough, quick search. With all of her fiery enthusiasm, Itachi hadn't known she could take the time to strategize. Yet another paradox.

"Not full speed," she whispered, brow furrowed in displeasure. "I need to reserve as much of my chakra as I can. I don't have nearly as much as he does… I can manipulate mine better and thus conserve it more easily, but I wasn't born with Uchiha genes… I can set us at a pace that will get us to him by dawn. I'll need to fight him in the daylight. I don't have his eyes, so I won't even stand a chance if I can't see him."

"As you wish," he murmured, catching her eye and pulling her effectively back to the present. Shit, that determination… She really wanted this.

He waited patiently as she adorned the rest of her uniform—she slept in just her shorts and the thin black shirt she wore beneath her red one. But she didn't take long to dress or equip herself with the standard gear he'd granted her a couple villages back. He watched her as she moved effortlessly through the motions of a kunoichi on duty, and as she tugged on her black cloth gloves, he lost control. Not knowing _why_ he was suddenly overcome by her, he spun her around and pushed her against the nearest tree.

"_Itachi_!" was all she could gasp before his mouth was covering hers.

He didn't care that he couldn't help it. It was clear by now that no amount of evading his emotions could match the way she made him feel, and it was futile trying to resist that now. So he let go and let himself feel, faced it head on, and hurtled into it freely. She was his living, breathing exception, and he wasn't letting her go.

Hell, it _scared_ him, the storm of emotions he felt for her, but he welcomed it and let it all from his lips to hers. Fingers tightening in her hair, he nudged into her mouth with his tongue, not taking the time to be gentle or slow or considerate. That wasn't how he felt. He felt panic and passion and power when she was in his arms, and hell if he didn't know what to do with it all. So he kissed the hell out of her and reveled in what it did to him when she kissed the hell out of him, too.

Before he knew he was doing it, his hand slid across her stomach as it once had before, lying flat across the womb that would soon nurture a part of him. His child. _Their_ child.

That was it.

He couldn't let anything happen to this woman. Not her. Screw the rest of the world. Screw himself, too. But nothing could take her away from him. Possessed, he gripped her head tightly, his thumbs pressing open her jaw as he tipped her head back and towered over her. She moaned, letting him control her body, holding his arms tightly…

And then he pushed himself inside her.

She gasped and tried to jerk back, but he held on to her firmly, and continued to fill her with his chakra. He let it pour right into her, and he didn't bother with being gentle. She could handle it. He didn't stop. Forced his whole being past her lips, down her throat, into _her_, where his power merged with hers, where it transformed her strength, stretched her limits, gave her fuel, and he released it.

It was hers now.

When he let go of her, she jerked away so hard she nearly stumbled. He reached out to catch her but she held up her hand, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, face scrunched in either disgust or confusion. She glared up at him.

"What did you _do_?" she whispered, horrified. She looked…betrayed.

"I gave you my chakra," he explained. He wasn't expecting her to strike him. But she did. Right across the face. Hard enough to crack his head to the side, too. When he turned back to face her, astonished, tears were flooding her eyes and her lips were trembling.

"You idiot, you _need_ that!" she cried. He gaped at her. "I don't know what to do with it all! What if I fail?"

"Sakura, I will recover," he said quietly, deciding to ignore the sting in his cheek. Damn…if he was letting her get away with _that_… "In fact, I'm fine. My chakra will regenerate over time, as it normally does, and even now, I still have much more than you. But I didn't just give you a little chakra boost. That jutsu enhanced your chakra permanently. From here on out, you're chakra will be tenfold what it was before. You have the chakra of an Uchiha. Now, you will be a fair match against my brother. Now…you're safe."

"You…" She had to stop and hiccup before she could continue. He still couldn't tell what she was feeling. Disbelief? Anger? Offense? "You did this to protect me?"

"Yes," he whispered, breathing out a tired sigh. _Please_ let that be the right answer. He couldn't handle it if it wasn't.

"You…you idiot," she sniffled, glaring at the ground stubbornly. He was smiling before he wanted to.

"You're welcome," he said softly, and leaned forward to kiss her more gently, thrilling when she accepted him. Thrilling as he brushed his fingers across her stomach in eager anticipation once more.

* * *

She hadn't expected it to be like this.

He was more handsome than she remembered. The last time she'd seen him, his face had been morphed by shadows and darkness, but in the breaking dawn, she could see him as he truly was. His pretty lips in that usual scowl, his black hair framing his pale face, and those eyes black as stone. They weren't cold, not like they'd been when he'd broken her. Today, they were livid. Flaming. Engulfed in an inferno. His chakra flared around him in deadly warning, tightly controlled, and his sword gleamed unsheathed in his hand.

"Sasuke," she greeted calmly, exhaling slowly as she did. She moved her fingers experimentally in her gloves and tugged softly at her newly formed chakra. It came to her with as much ease as it always did, but she felt like the ocean was moving inside of her where before she'd only had a small pond. What lay inside her frightened her more than the man on the other side of the clearing.

"_Sakura_," he spat, through his teeth. It was satisfying to see him so angry, so out of sorts. Because of _her_. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, unable to help her smirk. His glower intensified. _Yes, that's what it feels like to be mocked, Sasuke._

"You're with him," he growled, his dark eyes flickering to the figure behind her. Only she and Itachi had met with him. She hadn't seen Kisame since last night.

"I am," she answered softly, nodding. His answering glare made her smile again. Did he expect her to deny it? For his sake? "Itachi has been helping me look for you. He's much better at it than I am."

"I'm not coming back," he warned warily, narrow eyes skipping back and forth between the two of them suspiciously. They landed on her and stayed there. "What are you giving him?"

"I don't want you to come back, Sasuke," she said, shifting her right foot back, turning sideways as if she was moving to leave. His stare bored into her. But it wasn't the same. "I want you to _die_."

She hardly gave any time to register his surprise. As soon as his eyebrows flew up, she slammed her fist into the ground, and it gave way beneath her knuckles. _Oh my_. While before she'd been able to do damage, now… Was this what being an Uchiha felt like? Was this what housing a demon felt like? As the chakra exploded from her hand, the earth shattered as if it was naught but glass, and everything around them crumbled. In an instant, all within a twenty-foot radius was demolished. She jerked her head up to find Sasuke, unsurprised to see that he had evaded the attack. His Sharingan gleamed at her from his place in the air above her.

He readied his sword, and swept toward her.

Sakura had never been fast enough to evade the Sharingan, but today, she ducked his first swing with confidence and had a kunai out to block the second easily. At first, he looked shocked. Then he just looked pissed. He darted back for just a second, then slashed at her again. This time, when she parried, she forced her chakra through the kunai and let it detonate where their blades met.

The explosion threw them both back, and when the smoke cleared, Sakura had Sasuke surrounded by clones. They weren't shadows clones—only illusions. But they came at Sasuke with all the pretense of being deadly. He didn't take the time to notice the difference, or maybe he wasn't taking the risk. He spun wildly, deflecting every feint, every deceptive lunge. His Sharingan swirled angrily as he turned this way and that, searching for her in the crowds.

It wouldn't be long before he thought to look in the trees, so she had to be quick. Vaguely aware of Itachi crouching not too far away, she worked hurriedly as she wound bomb pouches to the tips of kunai, thread wires in and out of the handles, wove everything together in strategic patterns impossible to follow with the eye. The first jutsu she'd created on her own. And Sasuke didn't know about it.

It was his fault for never paying attention to her.

As he took out the last of her clones with a hasty fire technique, Sakura launched herself into the air. His head jerked up, eyes training on her body sailing over his as she twisted and sent the tangle of kunai downward, sparkling pink fluttering after them harmlessly, invisible behind the onslaught of gleaming black metal. As Sasuke deflected the first kunai, Sakura was diving into the brush again, landing cat-like on a thick branch. She flung the last knife, its bomb tag lit and sizzling.

_Cherry Blossom Snow Storm._

There was a pause of silence. And then everything obliterated, which such a force she hadn't expected, it flung her backward as well. Catching herself on a trunk, she swung around and pressed herself to it, using its thick body to shield herself from her own attack. Why the hell had the explosion been so extreme? It wasn't a jutsu that called for chakra, so Itachi's gift couldn't have done it… Had she used more tags this time? No, she carried no more than the average shinobi. The way the bombs had been angled?

As the air stopped vibrating, she opened her eyes and focused. There was no time to worry about that. Now she just needed to find Sasuke.

She heard him before she saw him.

His blade cut through the tree like it was water, and even as she jumped away, the electricity spitting from his sword burned her skin. Wincing and clutching her arm where it had stung her, she moved to face him. But he was already behind her as the tree came thundering to the ground, his sword at her throat. She gasped, squirming backward into his chest, away from the furious chakra sparking at her nastily.

"Why are you with him?" he hissed, and she almost turned to gape at him. After all things, he was still worried about his damn brother?

"Jealous?" she breathed, but the promise of the blade's kiss as it came closer kept her smirk at bay this time.

"_Tell me_," he commanded, and she jerked her head away as his lips pressed to her ear. "Sakura…"

"I owe you _shit_," she snapped, closing her eyes and baring her teeth as he hissed in warning. "Why do you care?"

"I _hate_ him."

"And I hate you," she bit, turning her head to meet Sasuke's eyes. She wasn't afraid of _that_ Sharingan. She took a breath to steady herself for the next words out of her mouth. "Itachi appreciates what I can offer him, Sasuke. And I'm more than willing."

He literally _snarled_. Snarled like a rabid dog. It startled her, but she used the opportunity to duck away from his sword, avoiding his furious swing without much effort. That was one of his weaknesses. Sasuke was easy to bait, easy to provoke, and when he was angry—he was powerful, oh yes—but he was more careless. And for a medic-nin, it was no hard task keeping his strikes far from her skin.

But then her back hit something unexpected. Some large and obtuse and _not Kisame_.

"You shall _not_ hurt Sasuke!" the giant yelled just as she whipped her head around to look at him, and as he lunged to grab her, she screamed.

She dropped away from his fingers and rolled out of reach, looking up from her crouch just in time to see the kick flying at her face. Instinct told her to block, but she grabbed the offending ankle instead, her new chakra making it easy to snatch the shinobi's limb and fling it upward. But her enemy was quick to regain balance, landing on her hands and spinning to kick with the other foot instead. Sakura blocked it, shoving it away with her chakra, and then swept her leg beneath the other kunoichi's arms.

She retreated before they could jump on her again.

It took only a few seconds to analyze everything around her. Where before, it had only been the two of them, she was now cornered by two new shinobi. The big man was huffing exasperatedly some distance away, his large form trembling as his curse mark convulsed. Sasuke still had his sword at the ready, not far from his teammate. But the woman was up and recovering only a few feet away. She was pretty enough, with a small frame, white skin, and large red eyes. Though a brush wouldn't hurt...

"You _bitch_!" she shrieked, cheeks flaming red beneath her glasses as Sakura sank into a defensive stance. She raised an eyebrow. _The hell…?_ "How dare you try to hurt Sasuke, you traitorous slut!"

She stared at the girl.

"Are you kidding me?" she snapped, shaking her head at the girl in disbelief. "Sasuke betrayed _me_. He has no rights to my loyalty."

"But Itachi?" Sasuke suddenly said, and when Sakura looked at him, the pain in his voice, on his face, threw her off guard. _Oh shit… _No, he couldn't _do_ that to her. He lowered his sword, dark eyes pleading. "Why? Just tell me why, Sakura."

"We made a deal," she explained shortly, pushing aside the urge to go to him. To apologize. To make it better. She removed another kunai and readied it in front of her. "He helps me. I help him."

"Helps you what?" he snapped, his glare returning. "Kill me?

"Yes."

"You stupid bi—"

"Karin!" Sasuke barked, and the girl fell reluctantly silent, her fuming eyes on Sakura. Sasuke turned to her. "Sakura, what did you give him in return?"

She couldn't think. How did she _answer_ that question?

"She gave me," Itachi said, voice silky and dangerous as he materialized at her side. His fingers found her shoulder and squeezed possessively. "What you didn't want."

And then Kisame was at her other side, throwing something heavy and motionless to the ground at their feet. It took her moment to realize it was a person.

"Found the brat playing with this," he grunted, twirling a sword that matched his own in size through the air before reaching back and sheathing it with Samehada. Sakura knew that blade. She knew its shape, its color, and the distinctive hole cut into its metal. It had been a long time since she'd thought about Zabuza.

"Suigetsu…" Karin gasped in disbelief, and Sakura couldn't blame her for looking so shocked or terrified. Yeah…the guy _really_ didn't look human anymore.

"Jugo," Sasuke growled tightly, and when the big guy stepped in Kisame direction, the older man laughed.

"Size for size, _eh_, little Uchiha?" he chuckled, grabbing Samehada. "If that's the way you want to play it…"

"Karin…" he breathed, and Sakura gaped as the girl turned and faced _her_.

"Woah, I don't think so," Sakura snapped, but Sasuke didn't even look at her.

His eyes were on his brother.

"Fight me, Itachi."

* * *

**So, Itachi has definitely shown some changes. He recognizes that he cares about Sakura and is willing to open up about his past. This is another revision in the story. Before, I made Itachi actually think he had no emotions. Which was stupid, because that would make Itachi stupid. I changed it so that Itachi is aware of the inevitability of emotion, but has trained himself to be in a perpetual state of unawareness (with minor exceptions). This allows him to be in control and be perfect. Which in turn made him in human, one thing led to another, and boom, Uchiha Clan is dead. This horrifies Sakura, and he's astonished and touched that she cries for him. I found the revisions to this chapter particularly satisfying. **

**Yes, the "he pushed inside of her" is intentional. ;) Gotcha going there for a second, didn't I?**

**I made the scene with Sasuke more reader-friendly. Sakura wasn't as corny and stupid in it and Sasuke's character is portrayed as disturbed, pissed, and basically how he always is in Shippuden. Over the years, he's slowly lost it (which he basically has in the anime anyway, but for other reasons as we all know; sad face, but I refuse to put spoilers). Anywho, he ignores Sakura because he doesn't take her seriously. He doesn't know about Itachi's additional chakra, and he can't bring himself to believe he'd ever actually hurt him. **

**AnimeCountDown**


	11. Only Human

Nothing was going to stop him. Nothing was going to make him take her seriously. Nothing was going to make her more of a priority than Itachi. Nothing was going to make her important. So, when Sasuke shot toward Itachi, there was only one thing she could think to do.

She jumped in between them.

Itachi's katana flicked out in front of her—arm winding around her body—and clashed with Sasuke's just before it struck her. Sasuke had no time to recover from the momentum of his own attack. Her fist snapped out, and caught him square in the chest. The blow resounded with a sickening crunch, and then he was flying across the clearing, landing amongst the rubble over a hundred feet away. It all happened within mere seconds.

"Sasuke!" Karin screamed, scrambling after him carelessly, Jugo on her heels. They didn't even look back at the three of them.

"Did I really just do that?" she breathed, disbelieving, staring down at her hand. She hadn't even felt the impact… She'd just done what she always had…but the effect was devastating.

"You did," Itachi purred, right in her ear, and she turned to look at him, blinking. Unfeeling. His eyes were warm, quiet… He was proud.

Proud of what he'd created.

* * *

She wasn't happy. It didn't make any sense, but she wore a frown as she took in her victory, eyes glued to her hand. He sighed. She just needed time. He took her shoulder gently and pulled her to him.

"Sakura," he murmured, and when she didn't react, he insisted. "Sakura, what's wrong?"

"I just…" she began, but abruptly stopped, as if the words had been jerked from her tongue. Straightening, she let her hand swing to her side and she looked up at him, eyes fierce. And dark. "Let's just finish this."

"Another time," Kisame interrupted, scanning the trees warily. "Samehada is responding to some chakra. We need to get out of here, Itachi. Now."

"No, I need to kill him!" Sakura asserted, shaking her head and turning to the crumpled heap in the distance that was his brother. "It'll take only a second."

Itachi grabbed her arm, fixed her with his gaze. It was difficult getting through to her this time. Her eyes were clouded with something he didn't recognize in that startling blue-green. He frowned when he felt a warning of her chakra tickle the inside of his hand. He narrowed his eyes at her. Was she _threatening_ him?

"Let go," she growled, the chakra unrelenting. "You don't _get it_. I need to kill him now."

"Sakura, there's no way he could survive that hit," he said lowly, giving her that look that always sank in. But now it wasn't. Now, it was barely brushing the surface. What had gotten into her? "We're _leaving_."

She looked back at Sasuke again, lips pressed together in a thin line, fingers twitching at her sides, brow furrowed unhappily. Finally, she shot him one last glare of resentment, yanking her arm out of his hold. He let her go.

"Fine."

* * *

Sakura stepped outside their hotel's bathroom, ruffling her hair with a towel quickly. Itachi was already in bed, though not asleep. He lay on his back atop the sheets, hands clasped on his stomach, ankles crossed, eyes shut. She could tell he was still awake only by the way his forehead creased in a frown. It made her smile to see him like that. Unguarded as he rested, trusting her to let her see him like that. It had taken a while…and they still had a long way to go…but they were getting used to each other. It was getting easier.

"Tired?" she ventured, hanging the towel over the back of a chair. He opened only one eye to stare at her blankly before closing it again, as if it was an appropriate response to her question. She scowled good-naturedly. Oh, Uchiha men and their love for verbal communication… She crossed the distance between them and sat delicately on the side of the bed. She paused before asking, "Do you have any missions today?"

"No," he answered shortly, his breaths deep, not bothering to open his eyes. She smiled sadly at first, but then surprised her. "No more missions until you're safe."

"Oh…"

It was still awkward to talk about it. _Until you're safe_ meant _until we reach our final destination_. Which basically meant _until you're pregnant_. _Until you're with my child._ She flushed and pressed her hand to her stomach, staring down at herself in silence. A part of her…a part of her was excited. A part of her was already madly in love with the child she was soon to carry and give birth to. A part of her was relieved there would be no more responding to orders, worrying about missions, crying over Sasuke or Konoha or anyone… A part of her… A very large part of her was happy.

"Hey," Itachi murmured, and she glanced up in surprise to find him watching her, eyes concerned. His finger brushed her cheek and she tilted her head into his touch. Oh, all his little affectionate gestures… "What is it?"

"Are you using me?" she blurted, and then flinched. She hadn't meant to ask him that. It was a stupid question, and he studied her carefully before responding.

"Technically speaking," he said slowly, sighing when she didn't react. He lowered his hand. "Sakura, this is still business."

"I know," she assured him, nodding. She hesitated, and then asked, "Is _Akatsuki_ using me? To get to Naruto?"

His eyebrows went up at that, and she felt the relief hit her hard. That expression was enough to tell her that Naruto was still safe.

"The Jinchuuriki?" he asked, and Sakura nodded. Not that it mattered now. Not if Naruto was safe. A part of her heart _was_ still with him, even if she could no longer protect him. "No. In fact, we've been running away from him."

She froze.

"_What_?"

* * *

He told her everything. Told her why they sometimes had to leave at random times in the night, why they had to change their route unexpectedly, why he hadn't let her know before. Told her about the Konoha shinobi, the elite, dangerous ones that were chasing them without rest, without pause, without relenting, on their tails because of her. By some chance, they'd let Naruto Uzumaki out of his cage, and being more experienced and full of rage, facing him—as well as the rest of his highly skilled team—was too much of a risk.

What he didn't tell her was that the easiest thing to do would have been to let her go and hunt down a different girl and deal with the fox later. He didn't tell her that he kept her out of selfishness, pride, and desire. He didn't tell her that he'd kept a secret because he harbored the secret fear that she'd hate him and leave him. He didn't tell her that all he wanted was to tuck her away into hiding, so no one could ever find her again, and that as soon as he did, he'd finish his Akatsuki business once and for all.

She accepted the news better than he'd expected. Understandably, she was glad that she'd been able to avoid confronting Naruto, or anyone else from Konoha, so far—she didn't want to be faced with the choice. It was better if she felt like she didn't have the opportunity to pick and fight for one side. And she was relieved that, for now, Naruto was still safe, and that he hadn't been harmed for her sake.

He watched her as she processed everything, watched the emotions flicker across her face. Relief, worry, pain, longing, remorse. All things he'd known she'd felt since they began their journey together, but seeing them played out so blatantly before him made him uncomfortable. He didn't want her to have to feel those things. And a part of him still wished he didn't care.

He didn't know how her fingers ended up in his hair or how they ended up kissing, but they did. They did this often now, and all in all, he never felt the need to resist. The release is gave him was nice, and he reveled in the foreign feeling of _enjoying something_ for once. She was his secret indulgence, and today, she was slow and steady and sweet.

She wasn't going to turn her back on him for Konoha. She wasn't going to betray him. He couldn't pretend like he understood why she made the choices she did or what she was thinking when she decided to touch him like that rather than attack him like she'd been trained. But he liked knowing she wasn't a threat.

That she was now his.

He knew she was coming dangerously close to doing exactly what he'd warned her not to. She was letting her emotions cloud her judgment, letting her heart open to him, letting her walls down to welcome him in. She was starting to care for him, beginning to want him in more ways than the physical lust that had drawn them together. He knew that she was falling in love with him.

And for the first time, he wanted her to.

* * *

"Itachi…" she murmured against his lips as his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck and he urged her closer to him with his other hand. Hooking his arm around her waist, he pulled and she willingly obliged, unfolding her body and crawling over his, tilting her head into their kiss.

His lips nudged hers open and she warmly welcomed his tongue, tentatively pressing her own to it, and like their first kiss, fireworks exploded along all of her nerves. Her body responded immediately to every move he made, and when she heard him gasp beneath her, she melted. _Oh, he feels it too. _

And unlike before…nothing was holding them back this time.

Maybe he realized it, too, because on cue, he grabbed her waist and yanked her on top of him. She moaned compliantly, throwing her leg over him and straddling his hips, twisting his hair in her fingers as his tongue continued to sweep her mouth. His hand slipped from her hair, trailing down her spine, tickling her hyper-sensitive nerves. She shivered against him, biting down on his tongue before wrapping her lips around it and sucking. His fingers pressed into her ribs, and suddenly, he lifted his hips into hers.

"_Ah!_" she gasped instinctively, arching into him and tilting her head back as a rush of heat hit her right _there_. There was hardly anything between them. His cotton pants and her thin shorts… Shit, she felt exposed and naked and _wet_.

"_Yes_," he groaned, hands latching on to her hips as he pulled her head down and sank his teeth erotically into the side of her neck. She whimpered, pushing down on him until her whine became a moan.

He groaned and gasped at once, the sound heavy, masculine, raspy. Hot. He licked up to her ear, nipping and sucking on her earlobe, using every pressure point known to shinobi to turn her into a writhing, incoherent mess. _This must be why Uchiha's don't talk…_ She thought briefly to herself. _They're too busy learning how to do other things with their mouths…_ She was suddenly very okay with that.

She dug her nails into his shirt, dragging them down his chest and stretching the mesh material more and more as she went. Itachi jerked upright, taking her with him, making their groins rub together in more deliciously heated ways. Groaning low in the back of his throat, he yanked his shirt up and over his head, revealing his bare chest to her. She paused, overwhelmed by the greatness of him, before she pushed him gently back down onto the bed. And then she began to explore.

Unlike the rest of him, Itachi's body was covered in scars and wounds. Most of them were thin and faint, from years ago, but she traced each one of them slowly, listening to his breathing hitch as she did. She ran her fingers across one imperfection after another, until she'd touched every square inch of him. She didn't know how long it took, but when she looked up, he was staring at her intensely, waiting for her to make another move. Waiting for her approval.

"Surprised?" he said, surprisingly soft in contrast to the primal look in his eyes. "You will find me no more perfect than any other man. I am not a god. Only human."

Itachi Uchiha. Itachi Uchiha, who had been forced to strive perfection as a child, who had corrupted his own mind in search of limitlessness, who had sacrificed everything to be supremely superior. The prodigy. The heir. The one who could never be stopped. Itachi, the boy born with all the talent and power. The boy who hadn't let himself recognize all the other things he'd truly wanted. Itachi, who'd deprived himself to become as near a god as any shinobi had ever come. Itachi Uchiha. Only a human.

"I know," she breathed, daring to smile as she ran her palms up his chest, and then leaned forward to kiss one scar, and then another. She gazed up at him sadly. Lovingly. "I never asked for anything else."

His face opened in surprise, and she leaned forward to kiss his beautifully parted lips, reveling in the normalcy of the moment, the sereneness of it. No, this wasn't how she'd planned things to be. No, it wasn't ideal. It wasn't cliché. But she was getting her very own happy ending.

The one Sasuke had denied her for so long.

She paused, hesitating before she kissed him again. He blinked up at her, sensing her caution, and when she furrowed her brow at him, he tensed. She tilted her head, and spoke softly against his lips.

"Sasuke _is_ dead, right?" she asked, and when his answering expression crippled in surprise and confusion, she took in a deep breath. She just…had to make sure. "You sent Kisame to check, didn't you? And…he's dead. Right? He's gone? Itachi, _answer me_."

"No."

She sat up, studying him with wide, dangerous eyes.

"No, _what_?"

No, he wouldn't _answer her_, or no…

"He's still alive."

"Damn it, Itachi!" she yelled, raising a hand to hit him instinctively. He caught it, grabbed her, and flipped them over, all so easily she shrieked in protest. But he had her pinned. And no wonder. He was watching her like she was about to start foaming at the mouth. "What the hell, Itachi? You promised me he was dead!"

"The girl can heal," he sighed, shaking his head. "I didn't know."

"You bastard!" she yelled, glowering at him, fighting against his hold. Which was futile. Her attempts were hardly moving him. "You _told _me it was okay to leave. You liar!"

"You're acting like a child," he sighed, sounding somehow impossibly patient. His calm spread through her, and for a moment, she gifted him with silence. But she was still livid. "I didn't _lie_ to you. If that girl hadn't been there, he would have died. And I needed you out of there before those damn Konoha ninja showed up. I didn't want _you_ and _my brother_ and the _Jinchuuriki_ in the same area. Kisame left yesterday to catch up with Sasuke and finish him off. You weren't supposed to know. It's easier this way. Stop acting like it's so fucking personal."

She stared at him.

"Get off," she snapped, but he didn't budge. Furious, she pressed chakra into her wrists. She'd break his hold by force if she had to. "_Get. Off._"

"I don't take orders from you," he hissed, and she let out a wordless cry, pushing against him as hard as she could.

"I don't care," she retorted. "I don't want to look at you. And I— Don't use your Sharingan on me! Asshole!"

His eyes narrowed at her, but he didn't say anything for a while. The red of his eyes blazed at her angrily against the whites, the pinwheels ready to catch her if he wanted. How dare he! Damn Uchiha arrogance. She didn't give a _fuck _how powerful he was, he couldn't just whip those out whenever she pissed him off to scare her into submission. Not after all the progress they'd made. Not after… She was _not_ going back to tiptoeing around him and fearing he'd have one of his moody little outbursts.

"Get off of me, Itachi," she warned, but he suddenly returned the push of chakra where his hands held her down, successfully pushing her back—and _fuck that hurt_—and then his mouth was crushing hers. Squealing, she fought the kiss. It was forceful and angry and _painful_. It wasn't passionate; it was a display of dominance. Well _fuck. Him._ She snapped her teeth shut around his lower lip, biting hard until he jerked away with a snarl. Blood dripped from his chin onto her face, and even as she flinched, she growled back at him, "_Don't touch me_."

Her words pushed his rage over the edge. He turned his gaze down to hers, disbelief and fury battling in his still-scarlet eyes. Very slowly, he lowered her face to his, and despite all her bravery, her heart began to thud wildly and her hands began to tremble. This man… This terrifying man was the man she'd grown to trust and care for… She'd forgotten about the monster that lay beneath.

"_Excuse me_?" he hissed, so low. So impossibly low, she paled. Blood splattered across her lips, and instinctively, nervously, she licked at it. It tasted like copper. "I have every right to touch you."

"You'll have to rape me," she returned, breathless. He searched her eyes for a long moment, and for a second, Sakura felt some of her fear vanish. They were just fighting. They were both overreacting. They could get over this. And then he surprised her.

"I can do that," he whispered, watching her eyes widen and grow. Slowly, he pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and humming softly. Looking beautiful and dark and evil. She trembled beneath him. "But I can think of something worse for you."

His tongue swiped across her lips, collecting his blood on its tip, and before she could stop herself from gasping, he was diving deep down into her mouth, letting her taste him, making her squirm. It was hot and metallic and sadistic, and as he kissed her harshly once more, his bloody lip only smeared more of the stuff across hers.

And then he pulled away, stood, and strode for the door. She sat up, fighting for breath, fighting to keep herself steady. She looked up to find him staring at her, eyes red and indecipherable, and in that moment, she knew not what to think, what to do, what to say.

They just stared at each other.

And then he was gone.

* * *

**Not much to say here. Sorry about the random spaces. Doc is being a bitch and won't let me put line breaks on certain lines. -_-**

**AnimeCountDown**


	12. Never and Forever

Itachi left Sakura cold, especially when day stretched into night and he did not return to their room. As she lay in bed alone, her stomach churned and she fought the urge to be sick, wishing the room would stop spinning and her mind would let her rest. She didn't know the man who had threatened her, who had promised to do things she'd told him not to. He was a stranger. Itachi was a stranger.

Was that who he was? She'd thought him to be broken and scarred in his own way, not truly cruel and evil. But was he? He'd seemed too dignified for such vulgarity. But he'd stripped her of all her confidence in him and left her fearfully in the dark. He was all she had now, and he'd vanished from beneath her. And now she was spiraling and couldn't regain any control.

What had he meant? That he could think of something worse? For _her_? The way he'd said that… She'd really pissed him off, and he'd seriously scared the hell out of her.

Once she'd calmed down and all her anger had drained away, she was appalled and embarrassed and regretful of her own behavior. She closed her eyes, whimpering. _Why_ couldn't he have just let her throw her tantrum? She hadn't _meant_ any of it. She was just…

She'd been so relieved to know that her life involving Sasuke was finally over, that she didn't have to face that side of her anymore. That weak, angry, pitiful side of herself that had by some source of luck managed to fight Sasuke off. And _almost_ kill him. Itachi was right. She _shouldn't_ have taken it personally. He'd only done the most logical thing.

She'd just been so _happy_. The horror she'd felt upon crushing Sasuke like that…upon knowing that she held that power in her hands now, had scared her. She'd known then that she would never be able to wield her chakra the way she'd used to. She couldn't. Not knowing that she could do _that_. All she'd wanted was to get it over with before she lost her nerve, before she recovered her senses and put aside her life as a shinobi for good. She'd thought it was all over…

She'd wanted to do it herself.

"_Don't touch me!"_

Groaning, she turned over and buried her face into her pillow. _Why_ had she said that? She'd just been so furious, and she said it instinctively, not thinking, and oh, what crimes she'd commit if she could only take it back. He couldn't honestly think she'd meant it. She was _fine_ with how territorial he was. In fact, she preferred it. It made her feel safe, made her feel wanted. She _wanted_ Itachi to touch her, so much more than she cared if Sasuke was dead or not. She wanted her baby, damn it!

How on earth was she even supposed to make it up to him? It's not like an apology was going to suffice, and this wasn't _exactly_ a flowers-and-chocolates situation. She sighed and tried to think back, to each of their conversations, searching for something she could use to help her. No… All of their interactions had just been heated, full of fire… There'd been tension between them since day one, whether she hadn't recognized it until later or not. She'd never had this kind of relationship with a man… She couldn't lose him now!

The night dragged on and nothing changed. She grew more lonely, and her heart throbbed more painfully, and her mind grew weary and desperate for sleep. But it wouldn't come. All she was doing was thinking in circles, stressing herself out, proving how helpless she really was.

_No._ She couldn't be useless with Itachi. She needed to make a place for herself permanently in Itachi's life. That was just how it was going to have to be. She just had to tell him.

She had to find equal ground.

She breathed out, sinking into her pillow. Yes, that was it. If they could find a way to meet on level footing, then she would be able to be what he wanted. There could be no more headstrong, stubborn, and temperamental. Itachi was drawn to her fire, she knew, but it was time to tone things down and stop being so…young. She couldn't react to everything brashly without thinking things through. There had to be a balance. She had to be mature about things. She had to _give back_. Only then could Itachi trust her to handle situations on her own. No more screaming at him. No more breaking beneath his pressure. She would do everything she could for him. She had to.

She had nothing else to live for.

* * *

Sunlight filtered through the leaves like water, setting the green on fire and spreading a mirage of shifting light across the forest floor. The brush rustled softly against the breeze, and as the trees of Konoha whispered to each other softly, Sakura smiled and closed her eyes, letting her heart join theirs in sweet, nostalgic bliss. The air was warm on her bare skin. She tilted her head back to catch the sun on her face.

For so long she'd been cold and empty. Something inside her had been broken, torn apart by self-hate, self-loathing, words that held her down and ripped her open from the inside out. Chilling her bones, casting circles beneath her eyes, squeezing her lungs dry. All she'd known was panic, fear, and hurt.

Not anymore, though. That part of her life was over now. She was safe in the arms of her land of leaves, of trees in their peaceful, never-ending slumber. She adored her trees, made of emerald leaves and rich, dark bark. They gave her shelter, air, shade, refreshment.

They awoke and reached out to her, brushing her arms with their branches. The edges of their leaves tickled her skin and tossed her head back to laugh, long pink tresses dancing as the wind caught them and tossed them carelessly in the air. With a joyful shout, she spun forward, dancing with the playful leaves, darting among the trees and their long, willowy arms. She was in love with this place, her ethereal, eternal springtime.

The root shot out of the ground so unexpectedly, she didn't even see it until it snatched her ankle and twisted. She gasped, stumbling, watching its shrewd, withered form coil away from her, alive and ready to strike. Just above her bare foot gleamed a thin line of raw flesh where the skin had been stripped away. It gave her no time to react. It whipped out again, lashing across both of her legs this time.

The sting and the surprise was enough reason to cry out, and as she scrambled away from it, the pain intensified to a searing burn that reached right down to her bone. More roots and branches were breaching the earth suddenly, like the living dead, and they gathered all around her, taking turns in striking her, over and over, until she was bloody and bruised and numb. Writhing on the ground, she cried, tears hot and salty, and when she tried to hide them in shame, they left blisters on her palms and melted the skin off her cheeks. She buried her face into the dirt, calling out to her chakra and finding it was nowhere to be found.

"Sakura?"

She gasped and jerked up from the ground at her name, covered in blood, covered in dirt. The malicious roots had disappeared, and she was in her eternal paradise again. Only her wounds had not healed. She did not belong here like this. She was too horrid, too terrible, to belong in this radiant place.

"Sakura!"

She looked over her shoulder and found him standing there, his familiar shock of yellow hair and those bright azure eyes. He grinned at her, as if he didn't notice her scars. How could he look at her like that? How could he smile as if nothing had changed, as if she could possibly still find a place by his side? But there he was, waving his hands anxiously in the air, and sprinting toward her eagerly. It should have taken only seconds for him to reach her, but seconds passed to minutes, and he never got any closer. She tried to move to him instead, and discovered she couldn't even lift her feet. The roots were back again, and now they wrapped around her ankles, just tight enough to hold her in place. Every time she jerked or pulled, they only became tighter.

She watched as her friend chased after her, anxious to be with her, and cried desperately, unable to return to him. Unable to speak or move, she remained forever far from him, from his joyous face. Minutes ticked by into hours, and hours to days, and time itself remained as unmoving as the trees. The trees swaying dangerously to and fro, dipping low and creaking as the sky twisted from blue to grey and the wind picked up with an angry howl.

The figure in black appeared as abruptly as the roots had, as if he had come alive from the shadows at their feet. She tried to cry out, tried to warn him, tried to rush forward, but she was still stuck, still helpless. She had abandoned him, betrayed him, and now she could see him so close to death and she couldn't do a thing.

The shadow convulsed and twisted until it became solid, its malleable form turning to mock her with cold, brilliant eyes of red. He stared just long enough for her to _see_ him, and then he turned to the blonde, so stupidly oblivious to the danger right beside him, still running in place to a destination he'd never reach. Calloused, practiced hands reached for the hilt of the katana on his back, its blade ringing like a death-rattle as it left its sheath, and in one swift movement, it sliced cleanly through the boy's neck.

It was so abrupt, she doubted he felt any pain. His head just tumbled to the ground, eyes wide, mouth grinning, and she could hear herself screaming and she couldn't open her eyes.

* * *

"_Naruto!_" the scream flew from her throat before she was even fully awake, and as she jerked her whole body upright, away from her nightmare, the tears poured like lava down her face. She cried out weakly, wiping the tears away frantically where they burned her cheeks, and she half expected her hands to come away bloody and sore.

She brought her forehead to her knees and sobbed, folding her arms over her head and burying herself in the darkness. This was too much. She couldn't handle this. Her body heaved and she made no effort to conceal her loud, hiccupping sobs. Why bother? Why bother with anything anymore? Not when it was so clearly laid about before her. Her betrayal. Naruto's death. She let out a wordless scream, let it out until she was too weak to scream anymore.

"Oh, Naruto…" she whimpered, body shaking uncontrollably. What else could she do? Ignore it? Act like she didn't care? _No_. No matter what she did, she would _never_ become that person. "Naruto… Naruto…"

She had just started to get used to it. _Really_ get used to her new life, the decisions she'd made, and the consequences they'd hold. But hell if she didn't just _want her friend back_. All of them. Naruto, Sai, Kakashi, Ino, Shikamaru, Tsunade… She just wanted them back. She just wanted to go back in time, suck it up, forget about Sasuke, and _move the fuck on_. But there was no doing that now.

Her heart clenched, tightened, and throbbed. Why, of all people, Naruto? Naruto, who was kinder and more generous and more inspiring than any person she'd ever met. Why was _he_ the one with the sealed fate? With the shitty life? Why did _he_ end up with what the rest of them all deserved?

She didn't know much time had passed when strong, steady arms encircled her body. With a choked cry, she fell into his chest, gripping the familiar fabric of his shirt, and clung to him as she wept. He only held her tighter. His embrace was like air itself, and if he left… If he left, she'd have nothing. No Naruto. No Konoha. No anything. He was all she had left to live for. He was the only one remaining.

Time passed slowly, and she mourned slowly and loudly and he rocked her gently, never speaking or shushing her. He held her, and in that long stretch of eternity, her misery took the night too quickly. She wanted to remain there, soaking in her despair and hiding in the shard of light he gave her by holding her like this.

But the daybreak had to come, and soon, it peeked through the windows and wedged its way between them and as her tears finally ceased and she managed to quiet her sobs, neither of them moved and neither of them spoke. And they sat in silence, he wrapped around her and she curled so tightly she'd all but disappeared in his arms.

They sat in silence and let the daybreak push them onward.

* * *

She fell asleep shortly after dawn broke, her petite body limp and silent in his arms. Itachi sighed and placed his chin on her head, cradling her gently, so she wouldn't break. He liked the way she fit against him when he held her like this. He liked the calm and peace of mind it gave him. He'd never allowed himself to feel like this with anyone. But he found that he could live like this if he was given the chance. Holding her. Protecting her. Cherishing her.

Yes, he'd be okay with that.

He lay her back to bed after a moment, drawing the sheets up over her and taking the care not to disturb her as he did. Sitting next to her, he traced the edge of her face lightly with his finger, and was both relieved and disappointed when she didn't stir. She was _out_. Not that it mattered when she was with him. Here, she was safe.

Overcome by an urge, he twisted his body comfortably and lay down beside her, on his back with his head turned in her direction. He lifted his hand to touch her face again and brush through her hair slowly. Her face wasn't quite so blurry when he was this close to her, and the depth of her beauty surprised and enchanted him as deeply now as it had the first time he'd truly seen her. She took his breath away.

He leaned forward to kiss her tenderly, almost wishing that he could take back what he'd just done. He'd come to care for her in the small ways he could, and he found hurting her distasteful and unpleasant. She was such a bright light in his darkness, starlight against the night, white against his black. All his life, he'd surrounded himself with demons and death, and when she was near, he felt as though he'd found an angel in his hell.

"Never again, Sakura," he whispered softly, hoping and not hoping that she could somehow hear him in her sleep. "Never make me do those things to you again. I don't want to hurt you… Don't leave me with no choice…"

He brushed her cheek affectionately once more, then lifted himself off the bed and moved away from her. What he'd done made him hate himself, but it had been necessary. She'd wounded him, and he couldn't allow her to do as she pleased and remained unpunished. There were lines and limitations, and if she had to learn them the hard way… Then so be it.

The Sharingan, after all, was a powerful thing.

* * *

Sakura didn't know what time it was when Kisame came barging into her room, making remarks about beauty sleep and patience, but she nearly threw the bed at him. Grumbling, she sat up and rubbed her eyes awake, thinking on the night before bitterly. She wasn't ready to start this day. So when Kisame moved to pull her out of bed himself, she smacked him across the face.

She hadn't _meant_ to use her chakra. It sort of just slipped. She yawned as Kisame flew backward into the door, knocking it from its hinges into the hallway. There was a chorus of gasps from outside, and of course, Kisame's astonished glare as he moved to get up, but she shrugged, staying where she was.

"I'll get up when I want," she said, and then slid off the bed onto the floor. "Now, put the door back and leave me alone before I hit you for real."

"You aren't the one in charge around here, pinky," he muttered, his fingers twitching. Sakura eyed the hilts protruding from behind his shoulders… No, he wouldn't dare.

"When it comes to my sleep, I am," she retorted, waving him away with an overdramatized hand gesture. "Shoo. You fish people have no manners."

"You're just lucky your Itachi's captive and not mine," he snarled, snatching up the door like it was a piece of paper.

"And you're lucky you don't need water to breathe," she snapped back. He didn't find it as funny as she did. He just glared at it, slammed the door down so it was propped up in the doorway, and retreated noisily down the hall. She snorted. "Well _excuse me_."

That hadn't _exactly_ been the way she'd wanted to start her new non-confrontational lifestyle. She sighed and began to get dressed. Oh well. You couldn't make a dog fly, could you? She paused, halfway inside her pants. Well, she supposed you probably _could _with the right jutsu…

She had to move the entire door to get out of her room without knocking it over again, and as she hurried down the stairs, she could only hope nobody would say anything to her about it. Akatsuki could pay for it. She was broke. Kisame was waiting for her downstairs, and by the time she joined him, he looked as if he'd more or less recovered from his wounded ego. Kisame was a simple man. She liked that.

"So, did you find Sasuke last night?" she asked as they headed outside. He glanced down at her in surprise—maybe he hadn't known Itachi would tell her—but then he threw his head back and laughed. She'd take that as a yes.

They found Itachi at the town entrance, and without a word, they were on their way. He didn't so much as look at her as they approached, so she couldn't tell if he was just being stoic or if he was still angry with her, even after last night. After her breakdown, there was no telling.

Not long from now, they'd reach the safe house, Sakura realized, and if she left things like this, things would never be the same between them. They'd only had a short while to come to know each other, but she wanted him to know that he deserved more than a means to an end. He needed to know how much she offered him.

And then he could decide what to do with it.

She got her chance that night, when they made camp and Kisame slipped away like he usually did to scout the area and place a perimeter around their location. He didn't sulk or do any of the nonsense her teammates had always done, but he made his fire and then settled against a tree, legs crossed, eyes shut. Not near her.

Sighing, she crawled over to him until she was by his side, and when he didn't react, she leaned over him carefully, so as not to touch him. Still, he said and did nothing. There was no way he couldn't hear her or sense her being so close to him. He was just ignoring her. Or maybe he was waiting. Smiling sadly, she closed her own eyes and focused on Itachi, reaching out to him with her chakra and searching his body. Studying his steady heartbeat, his healthy chakra flow…until she found it.

Much like she'd found in researching Kakashi's Sharingan, there was an enormous tumor of pent-up chakra building around Itachi's eyes. Except, where Kakashi's had been more or less mild, Itachi's condition was by fair severe.

Excessive Sharingan-use could cause chakra to gather at the nerve endings around the eyes, where it would gradually grow until it became physically painful. Unused and stagnant, the buildup of chakra would erode the eyes, making it harder to see as time went on without restoration. Eventually, the eyes would give out due to the consistent exposure to such a powerful substance, and become blind.

Itachi was very close to reaching that time.

She opened her eyes and very slowly raised her hands, making sure he could feel all of her movements as she made them before she reached behind his head. Her fingers deftly tugged loose the knot of his hitai-ate and she removed it carefully to set on the ground. His hair swayed and she slipped her fingers within it, very lightly brushing her tips to the sides of his face, just near his eyes.

They popped open suddenly, the panic in them more prominent than his confusion. He knew what she was doing and he wanted to push her away, and for the first time, she saw a fear in Itachi's eyes that she couldn't comprehend. He stared at her, and she didn't move. Didn't make a sound. Waited for him to process and decide. And when he didn't protest, she softly pushed her chakra into his body. Panic flickered in his eyes again, but only briefly before he moaned quietly and relaxed against the tree, eyelids fluttering closed.

It was like she'd poured water _inside his mind_. Hell, it felt so good. So refreshing. So perfect. Ah, it had been so long since his head had felt that kind of relief. That ever-present agony behind his eyes ebbed away at her touch, and he moaned in surprise and pleasure, falling limp against the tree. He didn't know what to do with himself it felt so amazing. He just wanted to sit there and enjoy it.

* * *

The feeling of her inside him, her chakra so distinctive and familiar, gave him a growing sense of ease. It didn't put him on edge or feed his fears… He trusted her. He hadn't realized it until she was in him, taking away his greatest pain.

Was this her way of apologizing? Of erasing what she'd told him the night before? She wanted it no more than he did, that void that had come between them.

She was truly healing him. From the inside out. Her chakra shifted and resonated with a power so deep and true, he felt his anger, his hatred, his perpetual bitterness vanish. Unafraid, he let Sakura hold his life in her small, destructive, healing hands, and let himself enjoy the normalcy of having a woman—_his_ woman—tend to him.

Long ago, he remembered, Itachi had contemplated his future before he'd been tainted by all his thoughts of murder and black and white. He, too, had once wished for the good, normal life of a loyal Konoha shinobi. Young and naïve, he'd set his sights on earning a respectable title, finding a good wife, and carrying on his clan's name and pride.

And Sakura, against all odds…was letting him have that.

He pulled her to him so abruptly she squeaked, her chakra retreating just like that, and he marveled that his head didn't _pound_ when she removed her hands. Now, he could focus solely on her.

Her warm lips quickly accepted his, opening them to let in his tongue, and he explored her mouth swiftly and without delay. He wanted to _know_ her…in and out. Running his hands down her back, he pulled her over him and she straddled him and moved her hips over his. She whimpered and he groaned, raising his arousal to brush against her through her clothing. Such friction…and the sounds she made when he did that… He gasped and lowered his mouth to her jaw, sucking and biting until he reached her ear.

Oh, he wanted to molest every crevice of her body, but if they continued he'd get careless. And if he lost his focus, then someone could find them and he'd be putting Sakura in danger. Or heaven forbid Kisame return.

Groaning unhappily, he grabbed her by the waist and forcibly moved her away from him to look her in the eyes, where he found a lust so great he nearly lost it again. He sighed and smiled and shook his head almost sadly, running his hand through her hair affectionately, willing her to understand. She pouted, but she didn't move to touch him again.

"Soon," he promised, and she sighed, running her fingers up his chest slowly. He exhaled and muttered, "Very, _very_soon."

"Oh, I know," she said firmly, and then gave him a stern poke in the chest. He blinked at her. "I'm not letting you get away from me again, mister. As soon as we get to the safe house—"

Oh, god, he couldn't bear to hear her _say_ it. He pushed his lips against hers once more, a lingering kiss to keep her from saying anything that would push him over the edge. But that kiss, meant as a distraction, became a promise…of something more than what awaited them at the safe house. He leaned away, ill at ease with the abrupt direction his thoughts had turned. She clambered off his lap and settled down beside him again, and then her hands were at his temple again.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, staring at her bemusedly.

"_Finishing_," she answered, as if he was silly for even asking. "If something ever goes wrong because you get a _headache_, or, I don't know, go _blind_, I am so not being held responsible. Now hush and let me do what I'm best at."

At that, he couldn't resist the urge to laugh, and was pleased when it made her smile. That spitfire sense of humor of hers…

_Hell, he loved it._

* * *

**Yes, Itachi gave Sakura the nightmare with his Sharingan. Oh, and just a fun fact for everyone (in case anyone happened to catch it before reading this, let me know, because I'll be thrilled) but the references to "daybreak" at the end of the scene when Sakura wakes was intentional. Anyone know the Japanese word for daybreak...? Eh? Anybody? **

**Tis Akatsuki. :o**

**AnimeCountDown**


	13. Cry for Me

"So, how'd _you_ end up in Akatsuki, tuna boy?" Sakura inquired curiously as they walked. He turned to look at her, eyebrow raised, and seemed to calculate his options before giving Itachi a quiet look. Sakura rolled her eyes and pressed him further, "I know you used to be one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, but that was a long time ago. What happened?"

"Moved on, I guess," he answered, letting her insult slide off his back—he was so good at doing that. He shrugged, and her eyes widened momentarily at the way his swords shifted and clinked together. It looked like Zabuza's old sword was going to be a permanent new addition to their party. "It's what you have to do in this world. Groups, organizations, cities, whole countries all eventually divide and either drift apart or destroy themselves. You can either go down with them or find the next thing. Akatsuki came across me, and they needed a job done that I knew I could do. Easy work, just another road stop until the end, pinky."

"That makes sense," she commented, tilting her head up to the sky. It was blue above them, but in the distance, heavy grey clouds crept toward them ominously. She hoped they reached their destination before it started raining. "Akatsuki is basically like every other political organization in the world."

"Political might be an overstatement right now," Itachi said, shooting her a sideways glance.

"Influential, then," she amended, and he nodded his agreement, eyes back on the road. They were thankfully dark—she'd given him a lecture the night before about using his Sharingan just to scare the piss out of people when he knew he wasn't going to use it. "But your leader…he _wants_ to be a political power, right? That's why he wants all the tailed demons, because he thinks it'll help him achieve world domination or something."

"Or something," Kisame chuckled, and Sakura frowned. That wasn't very funny at all.

"Well, fine," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "Enjoy your road stop. As long as I'm not involved. I don't want to know all your plans and secrets, okay? I don't want anything to do with it. I just want to stop _walking_ and live in my little bubble until all the fighting is over."

"Then you'll be living in your little bubble for the rest of your life," Kisame snickered, but he dropped the subject.

"Hey, Itachi," she said a moment later. He acknowledged her by tilting his head in her direction. "Is Naruto dead?"

Both of them looked to her in surprise, Itachi warily and Kisame in outright shock. She met Itachi's gaze bravely, preparing herself for the worst. There was a high chance she wouldn't get the answer she wanted, and when Itachi turned back to the road, she took a deep breath.

"Not that I know of, Sakura," he said softly, but even as she exhaled in relief, his unusually gentle tone made it clear what he really meant.

No. Not yet.

* * *

Kisame was an idiot.

Was the first thing she thought when they were bombarded with a shower of kunai later that day. It was late in the afternoon, and hot, and the dark clouds had gotten much closer since they'd left. She wasn't expecting the attack, and she just barely picked up on the whistle of the blades through the air before it was too late. She rolled out of the way, noting that Itachi and Kisame had done the same, and then searched the area for him.

It wasn't hard. He wasn't even trying to hide himself. She pulled on her gloves as he unsheathed his sword, and she watched at a distance as he and Itachi clashed. She didn't dare interrupt while they fought like _that_. Both of them were using the full power of their Sharingan. They danced around each other, mirroring each other's movements speed for speed, blow for blow, never hesitating to counter, parry, attack, or dodge. An ultimate showdown, never obtaining or losing any ground between the two of them. But Sasuke had been rash this time—regardless of what he wanted, she was _still there_.

"_Sasuke_!" she screamed, and her voice was enough to catch him off guard. His eyes flickered to hers, and that hesitation was all it took for Itachi's katana to snag his right side.

He flinched, turning his attention back to his brother, but Sakura slammed her fist into the ground before he could retaliate. The earth rocked beneath them, jolting Sasuke and Itachi apart, both of them jumping away to avoid the crumbling earth. Clenching her fists, Sakura shot after Sasuke.

His eyes narrowed dangerously at her in recognition, but she didn't pause. She wasn't afraid of him any longer. _She had the strength of an Uchiha now_. And he could sense the difference, too, when she swung and missed by just a fraction of an inch. Alarmed eyes searched her frantically as she ducked beneath the swing of his sword and swept out with a chakra-enhanced kick to his knees. He evaded it by jumping backward, and in response, she brought her heel to the earth again. _Yeah, land on that._ He cursed, darting to and fro on the unsteady ground. Any wrong move, and he could end up with a broken leg or a flattened skull.

Yelling out, she flung a series of threaded kunai at him, the fizzling of bomb tags masked beneath the crunching of stone beneath their feet. His Sharingan caught the movement, though, and he jerked his body to the far right, avoiding all three projectiles. Her hands moved over each other quickly, even as he studied the signs and recognition lit his eyes. By the time he stepped toward, her though, she evaporated in a cloud of smoke.

Then exploded from the ground beneath him. He was already shooting up away from her, but her fist clipped his chin before he could get away, and he spiraled backward from the tiny blow.

He thudded to the ground, rolling to a stop nearly thirty yards away, but he was quick to recover. And again, she felt a surge of satisfaction as she reminded herself that she was _just as fast_ now. Darting forward, she sliced at him with a kunai that he blocked easily with his sword. Like before, she pushed chakra to the point, but this time, he mimicked her. Roaring, he sent the electricity of his chakra forward to meet hers, and the force of them both detonated like a bomb. Crying out, she let her body fly through the air, then spun and dug her fingers into the soil, using her chakra as an anchor to slow to a halt. Itachi wasn't far behind her, waiting patiently, blankly, watching.

Watching her. She couldn't disappoint him.

Sasuke was already on his feet, and so she pulled herself upright, too, making quick work of the distance between them. He blocked all her attacks easily, but her chakra-enhanced strength had him moving back whenever she made the smallest of contacts. And he was getting _pissed._ Sasuke had never been a patient boy, and when it came to Itachi, all bets were off. Cool, calm, and collected _her ass_. His anger was rising steady, his chakra flailing more uncontrollably as she continued to attack incessantly. All she needed was one hit.

Then, suddenly, Sasuke did something none of her opponents had ever done before. Snarling, he hopped back a few feet, then jumped forward…and reached out to catch her glowing fist.

She heard the crackle of chidori just in time to pull her attack up short. Yes, that was electricity alright, and while her punches were catastrophic, skin-on-skin contact with _that_ jutsu would shred her arm to pieces. She knew taijutsu, but she had to retreat if he was going to play that card. She couldn't risk being touched by chidori.

And Sasuke knew that. He came at her, quicker than before, eyes blazing. _Shit, shit. _He'd found his opening, and now s_he_ was on the defensive. She was quick, especially with Itachi's chakra, but he still had his Sharingan. And that made all the difference.

It burned when it cut through her arm, like razor-sharp hot coals. With a startled scream, she jerked back, but his fingers latched onto her limb, keeping her in place as his chidori ripped through her senses. The voltage stopped her chakra flow, fried her nerves, and even as she screamed, she couldn't make it stop. It happened within a matter of seconds, but it was the most painful thing she'd ever endured in her life.

Then Sasuke was gone, and Itachi was there, finely sharpened blade singing through the air. Sasuke ducked back, eyes brightening and Sharingan spinning at the sight of his older brother. His _real _target. Sakura let him go, falling back to survey the damage to her arm.

The sight of it made her blanch, and fighting back the urge to vomit, she put her hand to her charred flesh and got to work. Lord, the _smell._ Everything Sasuke's chakra had touched was raw and bleeding, black and burned away to the very bone. Biting her lip to keep from crying out again, she focused on urging her chakra back to life, watching as her vibrant energy awakened at her will and began to mend the destroyed skin. It wasn't just her skin, though, it was her nerves, her muscle, her tissue…

It would take a minute, but it was repairable if she worked fast.

Still healing her arm, she turned to catch up on Sasuke and Itachi's fight. And she was surprised to see two men nearly the same height, with features so strikingly similar, using weapons of the same style. They spun with the same precision and skill, masters of their beautiful dance. The power of the Uchiha, unfolding in front of her. This stupid feud was a waste of their heritage.

And she realized she didn't want Sasuke dead.

* * *

"_Stop it_!"

An unexpected palm pressed flat to his chest, and a flash of chakra pushed him back. He moved backward compliantly and didn't move again, carefully eyeing Sakura, who now stood between them, gaze darting from one Uchiha to the other.

"Get out of the way, Sakura!" Sasuke yelled, not even stopping to breathe before he was lunging again with his blade. But she blocked him from getting to Itachi, catching his sword deftly with her hand, not even flinching as the blade sliced open her palm. Finally, Sasuke hesitated.

"This is stupid," she said, tightening her grip around the sword. Blood splattered to the ground, but she didn't seem to notice it. She was focused solely on Sasuke. Itachi waited, watching. What the hell was she up to…? "Why are you wasting yourself on this, Sasuke? Why don't you _live_ instead? Really _live_?"

"I am living!" he growled, pressed his blade down further. Itachi inhaled sharply, but neither of them were paying attention to him any longer. Sakura continued to ignore the sword cutting into her palm, but it was all Itachi could focus on. "I live to kill him; I always have!"

"No!" she cried softly, slowly pulling his sword down, using her chakra to keep a hold of it when he tried pulling it away. "I know he hurt you, Sasuke, but this is so stupid! Chasing after Itachi isn't going to change the fact that your family is _dead_. If Itachi dies, then you'll be the last Uchiha alive… And you'll have wasted all your opportunities to start over and be _happy_. If he dies, you won't have any goals left."

Slowly, she turned around to address Itachi, her eyes pleading with him to hear her.

"And if Sasuke dies—"

"Then I have you," he finished for her. He knew what she was saying, but it was a lost cause. Pretty as her words were, there was no going back from here. Not now.

Sasuke suddenly roared, jerking his blade out of Sakura's grasp and spinning forward with it, right past Sakura to get to Itachi. She stopped him with an agile swipe of her foot. The blow to his knees tripped him, but the startling crack of bone told him her chakra had done more than put him off balance. He faltered a moment, and then his left leg went limp, the right buckling soon after. He caught himself on all fours, and hastily righted himself, unsteady but standing on his unbroken leg.

"Sasuke, _listen_ to me," she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. He tensed, but did not attack. Did not defend himself. His stupid little brother still didn't see her as a threat. Not even now. She was still the little girl who'd do anything for him. The past few days had been nothing but a very bad joke to him. "You can't change what happened. Why can't you just move forward?"

"He destroyed everything that was precious to me," he hissed, muscles tensing beneath her hand. His brother met his gaze, and Itachi found hatred there. Pure, raw, blind. "I cannot let him live."

"I understand…" she murmured sadly, and Sasuke was too busy focusing on Itachi to notice the glint of metal in her hand.

The lurch of his last attack did little to stop Sakura's blow, the soft thrust of her kunai. It sank into Sasuke's abdomen, angled upward beneath his ribs. A fatal hit. He jerked to a stop, gasping for breath. Crimson dribbled from his lips, and the look of shock, of betrayal, of hurt that crossed his brother's face reminded Itachi of that day ten years ago. When he shattered Sasuke's world.

Now, he turned, wide-eyed and innocently disbelieving, even now, to stare at Sakura. She flinched beneath his gaze as he coughed, chest heaving, blood spitting from his mouth. Itachi watched Sasuke's last moments, watched those big, youthful, naïve eyes stare at Sakura one last time.

And he found himself glad that, as his baby brother died, he could focus on something more beautiful than the pain he'd lived with all his life.

* * *

The look in those eyes, as they slowly faded from red to black for the last time, tore Sakura apart. All of sudden, the younger Sasuke—the one who had once smiled for her and Naruto and Kakashi, had stood by their sides and fought with them, had saved her life and whispered a gentle, mysterious "thank you"—now stood before her. Finally, he was back and here with her, and he was bleeding at her hand. With a shaky jerk, she pulled the kunai from his ribs, and in response, he stumbled back.

He stared down at his stomach a moment, as if he still couldn't believe that she had really stabbed him, that she had _hurt_ him—and really, she couldn't believe it either—and then he collapsed to his knees. And with all the grace of an Uchiha, with the most grace she'd ever seen in a dying man, he fell to his side. She couldn't help it. Maybe it was because she knew for sure now, in the darkest, most awful part of her core, that Sasuke was truly dying. But she knelt by his side as he rolled onto his back, coughing, trying to breathe past the blood clogging his throat and lungs.

She leaned over him as she once had before and felt a shocking jolt of nostalgia, of memories long forgotten. Staring into those pleading black eyes, she felt the last six years wash over them both. All the memories she had pushed away to justify her hatred for him. All the good memories that Naruto had never given up on.

This had all started with the overwhelmed joy she'd felt when they had been placed on the same team at twelve years old, and of all the silly hopes she'd had for the two of them. And then, as Sasuke began to let his dark secrets slip out on those first few days of training_—"There's a person I want to kill…" "I was crying…because of him…"_ She had felt so clueless and useless, but she had wanted to hold and protect him. When Sasuke talked her into feeding Naruto—ironically enough, Sasuke had initiated their first bonds. Their first effort at teamwork.

Their first real mission had been escorting that bridge builder back to the Mist. He'd deliberately put his body between hers and the enemy's. Put himself in harm's way for her. When she'd seen him still and cold on that bridge, she'd thought he was dead. She'd embraced him with everything she felt, and whether it was because he was weak or not, he didn't push her away.

He protected her again during the Chunin Exams—saved her life. It had been the first time she'd seen him truly frightened. But even through his fear, he made sure that she was okay. He'd said she was important, as one of his teammates, and that he didn't want to lose either her or Naruto no matter what. Because they were precious to him. She held him throughout the pain of Orochimaru's mark, had stood up and done everything in her power to protect them when he and Naruto were unconscious. She'd thrown everything she was familiar with away that day to make the first step up as a kunoichi instead of being a timid teenage girl. And in all his dark and powerful glory, he'd defended her. Retaliated specifically against the boy who'd hurt her. Yet all that fury receded…because of her.

For a time.

After that, he still worked with them as a team, but a piece of his mind was gone after that day. Gone somewhere dark and cold where she couldn't follow. That rage had destroyed him. It had numbed every happiness and love he'd ever felt, and no amount of light could have ever brought him back. Not even Naruto's.

Gazing down at Sasuke now, she let herself take the brunt of guilt and reached out to gently touch his face. Trembling, he leaned into her touch, something he'd done on very few occasions. Rarely did an Uchiha ever need comfort, but in one's last moments…you never knew what you were going to need. His breaths were shaky and made it hard for him to speak, but he licked his lips and smiled wryly.

"I… I didn't think…you'd actually…do it," he forced out, shaking in laughter, and then flinched from the pain it caused. She smiled back at him. He sounded proud of her…just like his brother.

"Neither did I," she admitted, and blinked in surprise when his hand found hers. She squeezed, lending him her strength. He needed it more than she did now. "But I had to, Sasuke… You'll be happier now."

"_Yeah_," he snorted, and then doubled over in a sudden coughing fit, spurts of sticky blood running down his chin and smattering his chest. "Sakura…?"

"Yeah?" she answered, and his eyes—those beautiful soulful eyes—gazed at her for such a long time, she wondered if he was gone.

"Will you cry for me?" he asked suddenly, voice cracking, unreal in its despair, in his desperateness to cling to life. She bit her lip.

He wasn't asking out of curiosity.

It was a request.

"Yes," she replied, and with a shaky laugh, she squeezed his hand again. "But only this one last time."

"You promise?" he choked, every breath shallower than the last.

To reply, she nodded. Her throat was too swollen for words. And as a sudden, beautiful relief broke over his face, she leaned down to press her lips to his forehead. The only kiss she would ever give him. When she pulled away, he had closed his eyes, and a smile as real as daylight adorned his bloodied lips.

"_Thank you."_

And as he died, the last of Sakura's tears for Sasuke came.

* * *

**I hope you all get why Sakura decided that she didn't want to kill Sasuke in the end. Her days with Itachi has made her see things differently, blahblahblah. Her naivety has slowly drained away. And yes, I kept the "tuna boy" in there because to me, well, I just find it too damn funny. And Kisame's a cool kid. He can handle it. But this is a seriously depressing chapter, and I cried while re-reading it and I cried while re-writing it. Because Sasuke is still one of my favorite characters (I have a lot of those in Naruto; Kishimoto has such a great cast). By this time, my literary skills weren't so utterly terrible, so I don't think I revised a terrible amount in this chapter.**

**AnimeCountDown**


	14. End of the Road

Sakura took her time mourning for Sasuke properly.

She buried him on her own, beneath a maple some distance from the road. She picked a quiet place full of trees, full of green, full of flowers, full of life. After he was buried—sword in his hands, blood cleaned from his body, hair neatly brushed out—Sakura used her chakra to dig up a large, smooth slab of stone from the mess she'd made of his last battle. With a kunai and her chakra, she engraved his name and the Uchiha fan onto the tombstone and placed it at the head of his grave, at the foot of the tree. It was simple and undeserving of an Uchiha, but Sakura knew that Sasuke was far too content where he was now to care. He was with his family, somewhere she might one day meet him again.

They departed early the next morning, before the sun had fully risen, and Sakura regarded the misty sunrise as the first after Sasuke's death. Somehow, it sank in as she watched the pinks and purples break the darkness. It was _final_. As they packed, they did so in silence, and as they travelled, no one spoke a word. Out of respect for either her or Sasuke or both, her companions left her to her thoughts.

Her mind was still reeling from the reality of it, and though she had no more tears to spare for her beloved teammate, her heart was still quietly weeping for him. She had spent the last few weeks searching for Sasuke to kill him, and she was certain now that, despite it all, it had been a mistake. Finding revenge for the things Sasuke had done had been childish and silly, and now a great—though misguided—man had lost his life because of her own insecurities. She had found her rock too late.

Even still, now that the deed was done, her shoulders felt significantly lighter. In the end, maybe she had done the right thing after all—even if it had initially been for all the wrong reasons. Maybe it had been time for Sasuke to stop suffering, to let go, and rest in peace with all the others who had passed on. She knew the truth.

He would have never been able to kill Itachi.

For the next two days, she lived in the silence of her thought. After that first day, Kisame and Itachi resumed a quiet and respectful communication with each other, but neither approached or interrupted her.

She was grateful for that.

She took the time to sort out her feelings about Naruto as well, when she became too disheartened to pay her respects to Sasuke. If Naruto really was following her, then he would eventually stumble onto the battlefield, and in turn, Sasuke's grave. Sasuke's death would only provoke Naruto more—his love for Sasuke had always been much deeper than what he'd felt for Sakura; she knew that, even if he didn't—and he'd be more inclined to find Itachi than ever. To kill him. Because that's who Naruto would blame. He'd never even think to pin the crime on her. She couldn't even fathom what would happen if she had to face him and tell him herself that Sasuke's blood was on her hands…the hands that could have saved Sasuke as he died if she'd chosen to.

And what about Sasuke's team? The big guy and the girl—and that boy Kisame had beaten to a pulp. Were they even still alive? She'd seen no sign of him during their last fight. If they were still alive, would they give chase? Would it matter?

She didn't have to worry about those details anymore. Soon, she wouldn't have to worry about anything. So she took her time and let her mind drift steadily through her last thoughts of Sasuke. And that's what she'd do until her heart saw fit to stop mourning.

* * *

On the third day, Sakura woke to find Kisame had left their party. She didn't bother asking why, because she had a feeling she already knew. She'd lost count of the days she'd been with Akatsuki, but their two weeks had to be over soon. It was about time they started getting close.

She followed Itachi down a road much smaller than the ones they'd used before. It was rocky and uneven, obviously not well-travelled. It was somewhere down this road that she realized that the entire time they walked in silence, she'd been staring at Itachi's back. She couldn't even see what lay before them. All she could see was Itachi.

Was that how it was always going to be? Itachi leading her life in silence?

Sasuke was dead. And for that she was both sad and relieved. A part of her, she believed, would always find sorrow in that knowledge. She wasn't ready to forget Sasuke—and maybe she'd never be—but she had to be strong for him. She wanted to live on and do what Sasuke should have done had he lived. The Uchiha needed to remain alive. For Sasuke's sake, at least. And for Itachi's.

And Uchiha women were not weak.

So, with the determined and headstrong nature of an Uchiha kunoichi, she lifted her chin and quickened her pace until she was at Itachi's side—and there, she fell into his stride. She felt his cool gaze, and turned her head to meet it, unafraid of what she might find there.

And for the first time, she was greeted with his respect.

With the right to walk by his side.

* * *

Sakura wasn't sure what she had expected her "safe house" to look like, but the little cottage Itachi brought her to was surprising. Hidden deep in a forest, in a broad clearing surrounded by thousands of trees, was a small building made of worn, but well-kept wood. It had just one floor, with a simple roof and a simple shape. It spoke of isolation and silence, and somehow, that made it perfect.

She approached it slowly, eyes wide as she listened to the whispering of the trees and the faint trickling of a stream nearby. The sun spread its light through the clearing, the first she'd seen of it since Sasuke's death. She hadn't noticed before, but as she walked, she noted that the house was perched on the peak of a shallow incline. Halfway up the small hill, she discovered a makeshift path of mismatched stepping stones inlaid in the fertile soil. The grass gave way beneath her feet, bright and green, and she let her gaze travel to the sparse bed of flowers that framed the house's perimeter. She paused as she reached the door, reaching up to run her fingers over the smooth dark wood.

"Not what you had in mind?" Itachi asked, and she glanced over her shoulder to look at him. She hadn't realized he'd followed. Smiling, she shook her head and shrugged, taking in the place once again.

"It isn't at all," she admitted. "I guess I'm just…"

"Disappointed?" he guessed, and Sakura faced him in surprise. Grinning, she shook her head again.

"Not at all," she laughed. "I just didn't think it could be so perfect."

"You like it?" He seemed genuinely surprised. But relieved.

"Yes," she said softly, breathing out. Then she took his hand, opened the door, and led them both inside.

Past the threshold, she was greeted with a charming, quaint atmosphere made of plain, matching furniture, a low table at the center of the room, and a stone fireplace adjacent to the living area. Light from the windows caught the air and turned what might have been boring to warm and welcoming.

Further in was the kitchen, with basic equipment on the countertops and a long circular table that could comfortably seat six people. A quick peek confirmed that the pantry was stocked—even all the spices—and that all her necessities were already supplied.

Down the hall were two small bedrooms, a bathroom, and an unfurnished room, possibly a closet or an office. Sakura gave thought to turning it into an equipment room, a place where she could store weapons or make her medicines and poisons, things that belonged to her kunoichi nature. Just because she was basically retiring didn't meant she was _completely_ letting go of that part of herself. She still had to be ready for anything.

At the very end of the hall was the master bedroom. And though simple, it was beautiful. Against the wall opposite the door was the bed, made with bright, cotton sheets. To her right was a large window facing west, curving outward to make room for a window seat covered in thick white cushion. There was a tall wardrobe on her left, and next to it a matching dresser. At the foot of the bed was a large wooden chest, and over there a desk, and there a private bathroom.

Not letting go of Itachi's hand, Sakura walked forward, turning her head this way and that. Turning, she lowered herself down onto the trunk, eyes still searching. Itachi waited patiently as she took it in, and when she finally turned to smile at him, he was watched her with that wary look, as if he never knew what she might do next.

"This is perfect," she said, and his dark eyes studied her before his lips turned up into a small and hesitant smile.

"I'm glad," was his answer, and Sakura's breath caught in her chest when he leaned down, fingers brushing aside her hair, and pressed his lips to hers.

Like a breath of fresh air, his kiss was the icing on top. It was a kiss that made her feel like saying and thinking cheesy, corny things. Like their worlds were aligning and they were fulfilling their destinies. It just felt _right_. And she didn't want to let go. He was what she'd be living for now. She would live, and fight, for Itachi…for Sasuke…for herself…for their baby.

She let go of his hand to curl her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. He hummed in approval, mimicking her by wrapping around her waist and lifting her into the air. A moment later, he set her on the bed, and pushed her back until they were both laying down.

It didn't take long for their kiss to intensify. She opened her mouth invitingly to his tongue and welcomed it with her own, hands moving to release his hair from its tie. He reached down to remove her boots, then slipped his hands up her leg and beneath her medic apron. Her nails scraped at his scalp, threading through the long black locks tickling her face as they fell over Itachi's shoulders.

He pulled from the kiss to ravage her neck, kissing and nipping at her weak spots, and his hands were inching dangerously close to her most precious place, rubbing the tops of her thighs through her spandex shorts. Gasping, Sakura tore through the clasps of Itachi's cloak, pushing it off him as he sat up to remove the mesh shirt he wore beneath. And then he was leaning forward, eyes deep and warm and on _hers_, to take the zipper of her vest and gently tug it down.

It wasn't possible—or fair—for him to remain so composed when he did that. She could feel his heart racing, hear his shallow breathing, see the lust darkening the blackness of his eyes, but _damn_. Impatient, she grabbed his hand with both of hers and unzipped her shirt hastily, never letting her eyes leave his as she shrugged it off and threw it to the floor. Then she pulled him toward her and kissed him with all her might.

He didn't give her a chance to dominate. He pushed her back onto the bed, hands searching the toned muscles of her stomach before moving up to cup her through her bra. She was busy exploring his body, too, even as she arched into his touch. His skin was warm and tight wherever she touched. As a medic, she could have recited every muscle, every bone, every piece of tissue that her fingers found, but all she could think of was how perfect he was and how she wanted _more_. Her fingers brushed over his scars and his thumbs skimmed across her nipples.

Then his hands were at her skirt, and breathing hard, she quickly helped him discard it. Then came her kunai holster, her shuriken pouch, and the tight pair of shorts she'd always worn around him.

Then he was staring.

Sakura hadn't felt insecure about her body in a long time. Sasuke had done his damage, but his insults had always been directed at her usefulness or her strength. Otherwise, though, she had been very confident, and she was a naturally assertive and independent person. As a young girl, she'd often competed with her classmates in their small squabbles over who was prettiest, the best dressed. She'd gotten into it with Ino enough times during the years she'd spent worrying over her appearance. But she was a kunoichi. She was physically active, and she ate a healthy diet. Her skin was a pretty white, and she had enough admirers to be happy with her face. But the way Itachi's gaze fell so heavily on her body…

"I love that I can see you," he whispered. Sakura's lips parted in shock.

_Oh._

Hungry lips fell to hers, hands running along the insides of her thighs. She willingly opened her legs to let him sink between them, the warmth of his body flooding through her in flashes. Carefully, he moved his body against her, lips trailing to her throat to suck on her pulse point. She squirmed, completely at his mercy.

But that's what this was. The end of the line. The grand finale to her partnership with Itachi Uchiha. He had fulfilled his side of the bargain now that Sasuke was gone from this world, and now she was to carry his child. Recreate his legendary clan. Was that what he was thinking? That he had succeeded in his mission?

"This is it, isn't it?" she gasped, fighting for breath as he licked down her shoulder, his tongue leaving a warm, damp trail to her breasts. He grunted, as if in agreement, and she frowned, even as she searched for the clasp of his pants. "I mean…it's all over after this."

Perhaps it was her words, or maybe it was the tone of her voice, but Itachi paused and raised his head, warm gaze peering at her through lust and confusion.

"Sorry?" he breathed, and she had to smile. He had no idea. Confirming her thoughts, he brushed his forehead against hers affectionately. "Sakura, what are you talking about?"

"The deal," she said, raising her eyebrows at him. He blinked, deadpan.

"What?"

"The baby…" she said slowly. The bewildered look he gave her made her want to squeal with joy. She tossed her head back to laugh at him as realization dawned over his features.

"Oh, that," he said, frowning. Annoyed he'd forgotten, no doubt.

"You _forgot_?" she laughed, unable to contain it. He stared down at her, brow still creased, not too happy with his blunder. She bit her lip to keep herself quiet, letting him think of how he wanted to respond. Hell, she didn't want to insult him _now_. Damn it, if he left her like this _one_ more time…

"Yes, I did," he suddenly said, not hiding his surprise. His eyes focused on her. "I was just thinking about you."

She inhaled.

"Good… I like it that way," she purred.

They lost themselves in the tangle of their passion, and in a flurry of kisses, they each lost what clothing still remained. His mouth was everywhere, and she let him be dominant, let him control her. It felt good being submissive. And when he lay between her legs again, Sakura almost closed her eyes.

There was no turning back.

Her life would forever be changed.

He entered her slowly, just slow enough that she could stretch around him comfortably, that she could savor the fullness that came with his penetration. She was panting hard by the time he was entirely inside her, and when he was there, he paused. Itachi's face burrowed in the crook of her neck, Sakura clinging to his back desperately as she clenched around him. He raised his head to kiss her, and then he began to move.

At first, his thrusts were deep, precise, and controlled—just like he'd been when they'd first met. Every movement predictable, she raised her hips to meet his every time, curling her legs around his waist and moaning as he slid inside her. Like their first kiss, they just fit together, and there was something so effortless, so unified about being together like this, that Sakura quickly began to unravel.

By the time her core began to wind up, his thrusts had become sloppier and more erratic. She pressed her mouth to his, savoring his taste as she bucked her hips, encouraging him to let go. He didn't need to control everything. _He didn't need to be perfect._

She nibbled down his neck and his thrusts became harder and deeper, and she arched, crying out when he found her sweet spot. And she'd never felt anything more pure than coming undone around him, feeling that hot spiral of bliss far below her stomach, falling through her bottomless pit of pleasure. She tightened as he followed her over the edge, and she clenched around him when she felt his seed pour into her womb. _She couldn't lose a drop._

Spent, he lay down beside her, sweat making his calloused, scarred, beautiful skin shine against the last rays of the setting sun outside their new window. The orange glow made his face kind as he turned to stare at her adoringly—or maybe that was just his smile.

In silence, they found each other's arms and he cradled her preciously in the sweet afterglow, both of them seeming to know…

They had succeeded.

* * *

**I cut this chapter in half so I could add another chapter. :3**

**AnimeCountDown**


	15. Nightmares

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

* * *

Sakura loved preparing dinner every night. It wasn't a luxury she'd always had as a full-time kunoichi, but now she had all the time in the world, and her pantry and fridge had a never-ending supply of everything she could ever need. Right down to all the spices and herbs she'd never dreamed of having. As medic, she knew each one by name and property, even the rare ones. The ones that were _impossible_ to find. She savored those. She kept a strictly healthy diet now, and even planned to create a vegetable garden sometime in the future. She had the plot picked out and she'd let the mysterious person who took care of her—keeping her food in supply and refilling all her basic necessities when she was close to running out—know of her idea by leaving a note on the pantry. The next day, she'd found sacks of fertilizer and bunches of seeds waiting for her on the back porch. It gave her something to look forward to—the time of year and her current size forced her to postpone for now.

So, for the time being, she ate the food from the market. Throughout the day, she snacked on raw carrots and broccoli, apples and bananas. In the beginning, she'd found reserves of things like ramen and cookies, but she'd left them untouched, and after a short time, they'd eventually disappeared.

Meal times, however, were exciting. She got to plan them out just right, adding and calculating so she knew she got all the vitamins and minerals she needed. All her fruits and vegetables were left raw or steamed, and she kept her meals full of rich, whole grains. She limited her meat intake to poultry and fish, and everything was either sautéed, baked, or broiled. She drank milk and water every day, and kept up on her calcium with cheese or yogurt for breakfast. With nothing else to do, planning her meals were fun.

Especially dinner. Dinner she sometimes didn't eat alone.

If Itachi ever came to see her, it was at night. The earliest would be around six, and Sakura was allowed the privilege of feeling like an average woman with a normal husband, a baby on the way, and a chance to eat dinner like a family. Other times, he came home even later, sometimes by the time she was asleep, and so she always left him leftovers just in case. By morning, however, he was always gone before daybreak.

Tonight, she figured, was like every other. While the food was cooking, she spent her time tidying up the house. Every so often, she would stop what she was doing and rub her protruding stomach affectionately, thinking of names and whether or not it would be a boy or a girl and gush over knowing that this little life inside her was almost on its way out.

She'd brought it up that she was worried she'd be alone when she went into labor, but he assured her she'd be fine, so she believed him. Despite her home's tranquil, secluded appearance, she knew she was never really alone. Somebody was always watching over her. Her invisible friend, looking out for her.

That was the one thing Sakura didn't like about her predicament. She didn't like feeling alone. Even though Itachi showered her with love—in the few ways that he could—she would go weeks at a time without seeing him. Without knowing if he was even still alive. And it always left her with an aching loneliness and worry when he was away for too long. Lately, she'd been contemplating asking Itachi for some sort of a companion. Nothing big. Just, maybe, a dog or a cat or something. Something easy to take care of, just to keep her company.

Sakura paused, ears perked. Frowning, she remained still, listening in earnest. She _knew_ she'd heard something just then. A glance outside was enough to tell her that it was far too early for Itachi to be home. She'd only just begun to cook dinner, and the sun wasn't even setting yet.

But there it was again. The slightest of creaks, of the floorboards bending beneath weight. Gritting her teeth, Sakura slipped into the room to her left. She had quickly had it filled with weapons of various kinds when she'd arrived, and she kept everything well-maintained and her skill well-honed. Grabbing a roll of senbon off a shelf, she took two of the thin needles and dipped them in a nearby jar filled with a clear odorless liquid. Careful not to touch the damp side, she patted them dry on the towel she kept nearby and then took her position at the door.

Before, she might have been nervous or scared, but it was easier than she'd expected to sink back into shinobi mode—even after so long. Nothing was more important than protecting her baby, and her instincts told her exactly how to do it. Sakura had known the day would come when someone would find her house and wander inside. Enemy or not, she had to use the utmost caution and eliminate any potential threats.

A flicker of movement at the end of the hall caught her eye and the first of the senbon flew from her hand. The air blurred and the intruder was gone, the senbon landing in the wall where he'd been just seconds before. And then he breathed on the back of her neck.

She didn't have the time to think before hands were grabbing her arms from behind, keeping her still. A surge of chakra pulsed through her, and she relaxed. She knew that chakra. She knew that touch. Frowning, she turned to look at her lover. The dark eyes that met hers were conflicted, but he was silent.

She didn't comment on it as he released her. Instead, she collected her poisoned senbon and went into the weapons room to clean and sterilize them. Once everything was in order again, she went to the kitchen in search of Itachi. She found him there, sitting at the table in silence. She regarded him with concern, but said nothing and instead moved to the stove to finish the dinner she'd been preparing. Every time she glanced up, he hadn't moved. He sat there, leaning on his elbows, hands clasped and brought to his lips. It was a stance Sasuke had often taken when they were younger. The thought brought her a brief smile.

She slid out portions of the meal onto two plates and carried both to where they always sat. Casually, she brought up a light conversation and began to eat, and slowly, he did as well. He chewed slowly, taking bites only every so often, and keeping his answers short and light. Even when she brought up her idea of some type of companion, he didn't offer much input.

"I mean, I'm not asking for a roommate or anything," she laughed half-heartedly, shrugging as she sliced through a couple chunks of tuna. "And I'm not saying I don't love it when you come back for a night… But it'd be nice if the house didn't feel so empty. A dog would be nice, but they take up so much energy and time. I'm thinking a cat would be better, they're so independent. They basically take care of themselves. Or even a bird! Hell, I'd go for anything… I don't know. Maybe I wouldn't have time, after the baby comes and all… Oh, well… It was just a thought…"

She trailed off, only partially focused on her own words. She was just rambling now, watching Itachi as he ran his hand over his face, his mouth taut and firm. Setting her fork down, she placed a hand on his arm.

"Itachi…?"

It was all she could get out, because then he was yanking his arm out from under hers, so abruptly she gasped. He looked at her once, then stood, saying nothing, and made for the door. Sakura pushed herself up from the table.

"_Itachi_!"

At least he stopped. In the kitchen doorway, he paused and waited, and she let out a breath of relief. There was no way she could go chasing him like she was now. And she needed to know what was up.

"Itachi, what's going on?" she demanded, trying to be gentle but firm. His head turned by a fraction in her direction, but she still couldn't see his face. She swallowed. "Did something happen? Is something wrong?"

At first, he didn't move. He stood motionless, speechless, turning his options over in his head and she waited patiently for him to decide to trust her. Whatever this was…it was bad. And it had to do with her.

When he turned, she knew she was right.

His eyes held something she'd never witnessed before. Not in Itachi. It was something deeper than sorrow or sadness. It was something she couldn't define with words, something like guilt and shame and misery, but so much stronger than any description could explain. It looked like how she'd felt when she'd killed Sasuke.

She watched him, confused and scared, as he faced her fully, took a step closer, and dug his hand into the pocket of his pants. When he withdrew it, his fingers were clenched around something small enough to be concealed within his grasp, and he raised his fist until it was level with his own eyes, above her head. And then he closed his eyes and loosened his grip.

It clinked as it tumbled out of his fingers, metal flashing as the bright, unblemished turquoise caught the light from the window. The gem shined brightly, untouched by dirt or filth. It dangled on a thin black string, though, which was marred with a stickiness the color of damp, rusted metal. On either side of the brilliant azure stone, so familiar in its unique cut, were two identical metal spheres. The weight of the pendant swung from the momentum of being dropped from Itachi's fingers, glittering as it went. It was such a beautiful piece of jewelry, a stunning necklace she knew well.

Naruto's necklace.

She couldn't breathe. Oxygen didn't _exist_ anymore. Or maybe it was her lungs. Her lungs disappearing with the rest of her because this—_this—_couldn't be real, couldn't be right, and if this was true, then she must have died. Gasping, she covered her mouth with her hands, unable to take her eyes away from the necklace. Tongue swollen, mouth dry, eyes burning, her stomach flipped violently and her body jerked with it.

"Oh my God…" she whispered, and pushed past her lover in her dash down the hallway to the bathroom. It had been weeks, months, since she'd dared move so quickly, and she only just made it in time.

She dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, opened her mouth, and spilled out her stomach, her innards, her everything. Even after she'd emptied herself, she kept gagging, kept choking…

There were no words to describe the pain.

_No_. It was all she could think to think. _No, no…_ Nothing made sense except that word. _No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No… No… No…_

_Not Naruto._

She didn't realize she was weeping until her skin was so taut with salt, it hurt to move her cheeks. She didn't care. Good. She was _glad_ it hurt. She deserved it.

She'd had a dream once, of losing him to the man she loved. She'd had a dream that she couldn't stop, that had ripped her open, that had laid out her greatest fears and thrown them in her face. This was worse. This was infinitely worse. This was a nightmare from which she could not wake.

And this time, no one came to hold her.

* * *

**It had to happen. :/ **

**AnimeCountDown**


	16. Legacy

Life was an interesting thing to watch. One might believe that life was life, simple and unworthy of tedious contemplation—one might believe there wasn't anything about it to contemplate. Perhaps he who thought this was right, and was too busy to ponder over trivial matters. But when one was given nothing _but_ time, it was hard not to think about life, and it became even harder to treat it as though it was a common, everyday occurrence. Watching it take shape, varying in length and strength, in size and fortune, encouraged curiosities.

Life was the towering oak tree in the nearby clearing, tall and wide, ancient and still. Life was the newborn deer, nimble and quick and fragile, eager to grow as it wobbled on spindly legs for the first time. Life was the army of ants swarming beneath the earth, determined and powerful despite their tiny size.

Life was the boy with onyx eyes, a desire to learn, and an ability to fight like no other. Covered in relentless bruises and scrapes, a bright gleam in his eyes. He was handsome, never still as long as it was light outside. He loved life. His unbelievable, against-the-odds chance at life.

Sakura watched him from the kitchen window, smiling affectionately as he tried, over and over, to hit the target dead center with the kunai. It was interesting that he never got angry. He'd frown if he missed, march over to get it, then try again. He had the same drive as her former teammates, an unwillingness to take no for an answer, to give up, but he didn't scream or pout or cry, even after an hour of practice. An hour of failure. When he finally got it right, though, he'd beam excitedly, give himself a little pat on the back, and then he'd shake himself together and keep on where he'd left off.

He reminded her so much of how she'd seen Sasuke twenty years ago. With those Uchiha genes, he had that pretty face, the jet black hair, and almond-shaped obsidian eyes. His skin tone was darker than hers, though not by much, and he was growing quickly. In a few years, he might be taller than his mother. And he had Naruto's happiness, that undying need to live beyond life, to do everything so nothing could go to waste.

To any onlooker, he didn't really look like her son in appearance, but he undoubtedly was. That much was clear when, at the end of the day, he'd set himself aside in a comfortable spot in the grass and begin to work on his wounds. He'd concentrate so hard, forcing his small reserves of chakra into whatever scrapes he'd scrounged up during practice. And she let him do it by himself—even when he couldn't quite manage to heal them all—because he also had her confidence, her independence, and a pride only definable by the Uchiha name.

Still smiling, Sakura turned to the two behind her, one crying for attention, the other patiently waiting.

The dark-haired one looked nearly identical to how his older brother had been at that age. He glared up at her indignantly, only quieting when she set his food before him and ruffled those bluish locks playfully. He pouted just a second more—for good measure—and then let loose his gleeful grin and dug into his food without reserve. The other stared up at her with grateful, loving eyes, his smile shy as he poked tentatively at his bowl. He had been stark bald his entire first year and was only now showing signs of bright pink hair. Considering genetics, it shouldn't have been possible, but Sakura had cried out of sheer joy when she'd seen those first few tufts. His father hadn't been _quite_ as amused. But he had midnight eyes, just like his twin brother.

"Mommy, mommy!"

Sakura blinked, watching passively as the little girl, eyes earnest and big and green, came sliding into the kitchen. Her socks had no friction, and when she tried to pull to a stop, she crashed to the ground, black pigtails flopping over her face. Sighing with practicing patience, Sakura knelt beside her and helped her to her feet.

"That's why we don't run inside, remember?" she said, but the little girl was already tugging her into the living room. She didn't even care.

"Okay, okay!" she whined, pulling anxiously at Sakura's skirt, trying to force her into motion. "Mommy, come _on_! Daddy's here!"

"Daddy, huh?" Sakura repeated, raising an eyebrow. She couldn't help her smile, though, or the fluttering of her heart.

They didn't make it out the kitchen, because the front door was already opening and the excited chatter of an eight-year-old—and the occasional grunt of a man just touching his thirties—greeted them first. They came into the kitchen with the boy she'd been watching from the window ducking low so he could sit upon those broad shoulders Sakura knew so well. Itachi had made for such a great father.

"Let him down before he hits his head!" Sakura scolded, but made certain they both saw her smile before she turned back to dinner. She'd let her children soak up his attention first.

"Aw, but _Mom_!" Koto whined, clinging to Itachi's shoulders even as he was being pulled off.

"You heard her. She's the boss," Itachi conceded, bending his knees so Koto could slip onto the ground smoothly. He frowned only a second before he was excitedly grabbing Itachi's shirt.

"Oh, Dad, look!" he exclaimed, holding his arm up proudly. There, a bloody cut stood out starkly on his pale skin, encrusted with dirt and peeling skin. "I tripped and fell on my kunai!"

_Oh dear lord…_ She whirled around, hands on her hips. She noted Itachi's wary glance her way and Tsuna's disgusted and curious cry, but she pinned her gaze on the boy. When Koto saw her face, he sighed and let his face fall.

"I'll go wash it off…" he grumbled, dropping his arm and his chin and shuffling down the hall.

"_Uh-huh_," she snorted with a nod, feeling old and stingy, but satisfied. A mother had to do what a mother had to do.

"Daddy, guess what!" Tsuna giggled excitedly, beaming as Itachi sat down. She immediately scrambled up into his lap. "Mommy said I'm gonna get a sister!"

"Really?" he said, responding exactly as Sakura had hoped he would—with that gentle raise of the brow to show his surprise, a loving glance Sakura's way, and that beautiful smile just for his only daughter. "That's great. You must be excited, huh?"

"I am!" she yelled, and Sakura giggled when Itachi blinked at her outburst. Sometimes, he still found himself at a loss for words with his children. "Now Mommy and I won't be the only girls!"

"Aw, man!" Koto cried from the hallway, where he emerged with a grimace that had nothing to do with the taut white bandage around his arm. "Gross! We don't need a girl! I want another brother!"

"No way!" Tsuna huffed, jumping off Itachi's lap to get in Koto's face bravely. For such a small girl, she was remarkably outspoken, not afraid to speak in a second what she was thinking. "I already have _three_ brothers! I want a sister, 'cause I don't have any!"

"Well, _I_ have _one_, and it's not that great," Koto snorted, turning his nose up to Tsuna's growl.

"That's enough, you two," Itachi laughed, pulling Tsuna away from Koto. If anyone was going to throw the first punch, it'd be her—she wasn't scared of boys, even ones two years her older. To his oldest, Itachi gave a pointed look and questioned, "So you won't love your baby sister when she's born? You want to be a man, don't you?"

"Well…yeah…" Koto mumbled, shifting awkwardly where he stood.

"You're the oldest," Itachi reminded him, placing a hand on the small boy's head. "It's your job to protect the family, you know."

"Isn't that your job?" Tsuna wondered out loud, frowning at her father. "I'd feel a lot safer if _you_ protected us."

"Only when I'm here," Itachi chuckled, leaning down to kiss Tsuna's head softly.

"Okay, I'll do it!"Koto exclaimed suddenly, pretending to be unhappy about the decision even as he stared curiously at Sakura's round stomach. He was young, and Sakura had never said anything to him before, but he'd picked up on the trend pretty quick: Mommy gets fat, and then I get a brother or sister. "What're you gonna name it… I mean…her."

"I don't know," Sakura admitted, tilting her head thoughtfully at her growing family. "There's Koto, Tsuna, Naru, and Suke… I think it might be your turn, Itachi."

"Is it?" Itachi murmured, smiling softly at the idea, almost caught off guard, but not quite. That far-off gaze entered his eyes, familiar and sending Sakura back to the first year they'd been together, when they were still figuring each other out. Now, nearly nine years later, he was still the same contemplative genius. Just not as much of an ass. "How about…Madara?"

"Madara?" she repeated, testing it out, feeling as though she'd heard it before, read it, maybe. Unable to think of why it was so familiar, she nodded and smiled, turning to pile portions of stir-fry onto plates. "I like it. Sounds familiar, though. Who was she?"

It was an unspoken tradition that their children bore names of the passed, in honor of a well-lived life and a new one to replace it. But Itachi didn't answer, watching as his two oldest children grabbed at their food and gobbled it up messily. Sakura placed a plate for him as well, but he didn't look up until she placed a hand on his shoulder gently.

No words needed to be spoken. Even the children knew by now to treat Daddy patiently, gently, cautiously, especially when that look got in his eyes. Sakura had tried to explain it lightly, just so her children simply knew, and would one day later understand.

"_Daddy has been a shinobi for a very long time. He's seen things that make him…different from us."_

As expected, she had been met with questions and confusion, but they grudgingly obliged and let Sakura bring Itachi from the past every time he sank too deep in his thoughts to return on his own. She'd noticed it had been happening more often, the older he got. A part of her wanted to help him, to heal his mind, but he'd yet to say anything about it himself and she didn't want to offend his honor. Plus, she wasn't sure her chakra could heal scars she couldn't see or touch.

She'd just have to wait and see. And have faith.

* * *

"I swear, he's grown half a foot since I saw him last," Itachi sighed as he walked into the bedroom, running a hand through his long dark hair. Sakura smiled, wrapping her arms around his torso affectionately. It warmed him instantly.

"He probably has," Sakura agreed with a giggle, one of those girlish ones that made him feel twenty again. "He's growing fast."

"You're doing an amazing job," he whispered against her hair, enveloping her in his arms. Nights like these were the ones he lived for. Even with her pregnant, she still felt small and delicate against him. "All by yourself…"

"I have you," she said, brow knitting when she looked up at him. "Things would be different if you were never here at all. I know it's hard for you to get away and be here, but still… I'm not alone. Not really."

"Not at all…" Itachi murmured under his breath, keeping his face straight despite the look of wariness stretching across her expression. "At least…not anymore."

"What? What are you talking about?" she asked, eyes going wide with hope rather than narrow in suspicion.

"Akatsuki won't need me for a while," he confirmed, watching her face light up, that independent strength give way to her glee. She nearly jumped on him. Laughing lightly, he kept his arms securely around her, making sure she didn't fall. "So I can stay here, for a while. Until they need me again."

She wasn't listening anymore. As soon as she could find his lips, she was pressed to him, desperate and unwilling to let go of him. He accepted it, taking her in, feeling her everywhere they touched. It was moments like this that made everything he had done worth it, that made happiness seem not too impossible.

Mostly, he felt her stomach. Warm and round and full of life, pressing against his abs. He was luckier than he would have ever been without her, and seventeen years ago—just ten years ago—he would have scoffed at this sort of life. It was life for the weak and mortal, the ones who sought not power but a happiness that could somehow makeup for their imminent death. It haunted him, the thought that if he had been any weaker, another man might have stood in his place.

Sasuke had been such a fool.

"Mommy?"

She pulled away with surprising speed, all of her attention immediately directed to the little four-foot-tall girl that was Itachi's only daughter—so far. Tsuna was tiny, as petite as her mother, but with a mouth to match and a mind that rivaled the best of the Uchiha. At the moment, though, she only looked afraid.

"What is it, sweetie?" Sakura asked gently, her maternal instincts kicking in as she hugged her daughter tightly. "Was it a nightmare?"

"No…" she whimpered, holding on to her mother tightly. "There's somebody outside."

* * *

Koto knew.

He heard his parents when they talked sometimes. They came from the same place—a place far away—but they had been on different sides until they'd become a team. Now, they were both considered traitors, and were both hunted for their crimes. They were respected, and they were feared: great shinobi and powerful adversaries.

He was proud of his parents. Whoever they were, whoever they'd betrayed, for whatever reason it was that they lived in a place where there were no other people, only trees and animals, Koto knew it was a good one. That much, he knew. He didn't want a different life. He was grateful for the one he had, and for that, he would fight. He steeled himself as he watched from the living room window, the shadows flickering across the lawn. They moved fast, but his Sharingan, even underdeveloped, made them slower than they really were. The few times Itachi came home, he had taught him how to awaken the first of the three pinwheels. He'd opened the second on his own. For an eight-year-old, Koto could match up to some chunin. That's what his dad told him. Whatever chunin were.

"Koto!"

He was yanked away from the window just as it burst, shielded by something soft and warm his mind was too slow to register. There was the ringing of metal, a grunt, the squish of blood, and then silence. So quick. Just like that. Very hesitantly, Sakura straightened, and he saw from the corner of his eyes that she looked over her shoulder. Peeking around her, trembling and wide-eyed, he saw his father, magnificent katana in hand, lifeless body falling before him. Koto gasped as the masked ninja fell to his knees, blood dripping from his torso and back, and then collapsed onto his own face.

Itachi was already readying himself again; Koto recognized it in his stance. Knees bent, body leaning back, hands outstretched, fingers gripping the katana's hilt… This was the first time Koto had seen his father actually fight. The first time he'd seen life leave a body so quickly.

"Basement," Itachi said, just one word, and though Koto could not see his face, he could imagine what it looked like. Fierce. Unafraid. Deadly. It was the way of the ninja, and if what he'd heard his parents say was true, Itachi was one of the best. But when he looked up at his mother, none of that was on his mind.

"We have a basement?" Sakura ignored him and pulled him toward the hallway. Before he could think, she was shoving him into the weaponry room, a place he was _never_ allowed to enter. "Mom?"

"Get in there now!" she yelled, leaving no room for question. He nodded and disappeared inside.

He didn't know what to do inside the dark, pristinely kept room but listen to the crashing of more windows, the shrieking of kunai and shuriken, the thunderous explosions of chakra-infused attacks. Panting hard, unaware he'd been out of breath until just then, Koto wandered to the center of the room. What was he supposed to do in here?

"Koto?"

He spun around in shock, gasping at what he found. There, in the corner of the room just near the door was Tsuna. She was beneath the floorboards, peeking out of a trap door with a teary-eyed Naru in her little arms. Smiling gratefully, he started toward them, but yelled out when the door burst open. Tsuna screamed, but Koto lunged for the first thing in sight.

He could suddenly see so much clearer. He knew how to move, dart right to dodge the kunai, roll forward to avoid the barrage of senbon. His Sharingan whirled furiously, tracking every movement the armored, masked man made. His fingers made it around a vial of purple liquid he recognized from his studies, and he launched himself into the air, pulling out the cork and letting poison fly. It sliced through the air, cutting through the mask and burning through the skin. The shinobi shrieked, but Koto was on autopilot. He dropped at the same time as the ninja, and slammed the door shut before anyone else could find them. He still had to lunge toward Tsuna to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep her stop her screaming.

"Shut up!" he hissed, then nudged her gently and removed his hand. "Go down. Mom and Dad are coming. You have Suke with you, right?"

"Yes," she whimpered quietly as Koto crawled in with her, shutting the trap door as soon as he was safely inside. Quickly, he gathered up a wide-eyed Suke in his arms and huddled into a corner with Tsuna and Naru. The only lighting in the little panic room was a kerosene lamp in the very center, which Koto quickly dragged toward them. "Where are Mommy and Daddy?"

"Upstairs," he replied, letting her tuck herself into his arms. "They should be down soon. Don't worry. They'll be fine. They're really strong, Tsuna."

"How do you know?" she sniffled, stroking Naru's hair. Thank god he wasn't wailing…

"I've heard them talking before," he explained, patting her head and staring deep into Suke's large black eyes. "They've done things only the best of shinobi can do."

"Like what?"

The door swung up with such force, Tsuna let out a rigid shriek. Koto covered her mouth again as Sakura dropped into the pit, soon followed by Itachi's larger figure. They both seemed intact, but as soon as Itachi pulled the door shut above them, Sakura's glowing hands were covering his abdomen—a healing jutsu far more powerful than Koto had ever seen his mother use.

"Mommy, what's going on?" Tsuna cried, and Sakura turned from Itachi to put her arms around her daughter. She held her tightly, then pulled back and held her by the shoulders.

"Sweetie, your father and I are paying for something we did a long time ago," she said, voice barely above a whisper, but forceful enough that it hushed Tsuna to silence. Above, Koto could hear nothing. The stench of blood was filling the room. Wafting from Sakura. From Itachi. "We'll explain it to you in a few years. I don't think you'd understand right now, okay?"

"Are those people trying to kill us?" Tsuna squeaked, and Koto pressed his lips together in a line. Where was all her fearlessness _now_? In the face of danger, when it mattered the most? Sakura said nothing. She closed her eyes and hugged Tsuna close.

"It's because you betrayed them, right?" Koto piped up, proud of how knowledgeable he sounded. The glow of the lamp caught the turn of their heads.

"What?" Itachi's voice was quiet, almost unbelieving. He strode over to him, and at first, Koto thought he was angry. But he only took Suke from his arms, letting the small child bury into his collar. "How do you know that?"

"I heard you and Mom talking once," Koto said, looking up at his father, wide-eyed. "You came from the same village, but you weren't supposed to leave. They're chasing you."

"Oh god…" Sakura gasped, covering her mouth with a shaking hand, eyes gleaming.

"It's okay," Koto assured her. "I know it's the way of ninja. You had to do something you believed in, right? So we could be born?"

"_Shit_," Sakura choked, turning away from all of them, leaning against the wall. Itachi sighed and ran a hand through his tangled hair. It had come loose during the fight.

"No, Koto, it's more complicated than that," Itachi sighed, staring down at him with bloody eyes. Koto gaped in fascination; he'd not been introduced to _this_ Sharingan yet. Gone were the pinwheels, and in their place was something far more thrilling. "I'll explain it to you soon, I promise. Right now, though, we need to move."

"_And go where?"_ Sakura yelled, whirling around, face red and eyes on the verge of tears. Both Koto and Tsuna jumped, startled, and Naru let out a wail…but Itachi just met her gaze. Calm, careful, strong. "Where are we going to go, Itachi? Where will Konoha not find us?"

"I have an idea," he answered, without hesitation or anger.

"An idea?" Sakura echoed, her voice cracking in fury. "You promised me I would be safe! That _my family_ would be safe!"

"_Our_ family," he corrected her, and whatever she'd planned on saying next was drowned in a sudden outburst of tears. Koto stared.

He had never seen his mother cry. _Ever._

"Listen to me, Sakura," Itachi murmured, stepping close to her and touching her face. His eyes were now dark and warm. The way his mom liked them, Koto recalled her saying. "I will keep that promise. You are safe. You are what I live for. Just give me a minute to fix this. Okay?"

Koto had never heard his father sound like that, so intense, so…in love. And as he watched Sakura nod, tears ceasing, and watched Itachi lean forward to kiss her, Koto knew without a doubt—his existence was no mistake.

* * *

Contacting the base was second nature to him. When he'd been thirteen, it had taken him a few tries to be able to sink into the special state of meditation that allowed him to project himself through his ring. Now, nearly twenty years later, he could do it in a second.

There in the basement, he settled into position, demanded that they not disturb him no matter what, shut his eyes, and opened them to the eyes of Pain. Itachi had been right: Pain already knew. He could see the smugness, the cruelty in those god-forsaken eyes, even while the rest of him remained perfectly stoic. Also gathered was the idiot Deidara, his partner Kisame, the grotesque Zetzu, and the ever-silent Konan. For a moment, no one spoke.

"I expected you'd visit," Pain began, and Itachi nodded once. Arrogant and assuming was not the way to go with Pain. "Your family is in trouble. Do you expect me to help them? Your bonds should be severed, Itachi."

"I cannot allow the Uchiha to become extinct," Itachi answered, unwavering. "I will die protecting my clan if I must."

Silence.

"My loyalty is always with Akatsuki," Itachi said, bowing his head in Pain's direction.

"They'll be given protection in Akatsuki Headquarters in the Village Hidden in the Rain," Pain suddenly said, and Itachi nodded again in acknowledgement. That was the central base of their organization, the largest and the most secure—there had to be a catch. "I will send Deidara and Kisame to ensure you reach here in due time. Your kunoichi is expecting again, yes?"

"She is," Itachi answered, growing stiff. _Here it was._

"Then we'll make sure the trip is convenient for her," he said slowly, trailing off. "But living here will mean we have their loyalty as well, Itachi. You'll make sure of that. Your offspring… How old are they?"

"The oldest is eight," Itachi answer, heart dropping. Sakura was going to murder him.

"I will give him five years, then," Pain said. Voice cold. Voice rigid. Voice unfeeling. "He will join Akatsuki's rank at the same year you did. If, of course, he lives up to his father's legacy."

"He's growing fast," Itachi promised, blood boiling. "When will Deidara and Kisame arrive?"

"In less than twenty-four hours," Pain said, and on command, the two figures flickered and disappeared. "I'll see you soon, Itachi. In person."

Itachi, nodded, ignoring his trembling spine. Those eyes followed him all the way back to the basement.

* * *

As soon as he opened his eyes, Sakura was at his side.

"Itachi?" she said, touching his shoulder gingerly, holding her stomach with the other. He had that hard look in his eyes, the one that put distance between them. "Itachi, what happened?"

"We're going to Akatsuki Headquarters," he said quietly, and Sakura sucked the hot air in through her teeth. And he _knew_. It was all over his face, that he _knew_ how she felt about this.

"I told you…" she whispered, shaking her head and stepping away from him. "I want nothing to do with them."

"They've protected you for nine years," he reminded her quietly.

"Don't tell me that!" she yelled, turning away from him, the tears burning her throat once again—the first in nearly a decade—but she refused to give in again. Behind her, he pulled her to his chest, and she shut her eyes in a grimace. "Itachi…"

"I know," he breathed, and held her tight. It was as if they were ten years younger again, when they'd just met. It almost made things better. Just almost. "Trust me, I know… But this is the only way. It's the only way to keep you safe. And right now, that matters most."

His words were sweet.

But they changed nothing.

* * *

Sakura led her children upstairs after Itachi made sure it was safe, covering their eyes as they stepped over dead bodies. As it was, Koto could hardly keep his excitement under control, kept jerking away from his mother in wide-eyed awe, marveling at what his parents had done. When he leaned over to pick up a fallen mask, red paint blurred with blood, fox face cracked, her first instinct was to scream at him. He stared at it in fascination, twisting and turning it to study the shape and design. Shaking, she smacked it out of his hands, flushing as she held back tears. He blinked at her with surprised, mystified eyes. Seeing her in the way no child should see his mother. She sucked in a breath and took his hand and led her babies to the backyard. There were no bodies back here—it was just as it had been when Koto had trained hours earlier. Would he look at his kunai in the same way after today? Would he hold his bloody wounds up in glee after what he'd seen?

With the authority only a mother could claim, she set her children by the door, backs to the wall of the house, and commanded them to stay put, to not move from that spot, to scream as loud as they could if anything happened. And, gut dropping, she left them there, Tsuna trembling and trying to be brave as she clutched the twins close in her lap, and Koto, eyes hard with a kunai firmly grasped in his hands—he was ready to fight anyone to the death, so his little heart thought. And maybe he was. The dead shinobi in the weapon's room had not gone unnoticed by his parents; the thought of it frightened her.

Inside, she joined Itachi in removing the bodies and piling them in the front yard. It didn't take long.

When the house was clear, Sakura let Itachi handle the cremation and retreated inside to make a quick attempt at mopping up the blood and erasing all signs of their battle. Should anyone stumble upon the house, she wanted no stories left behind. After completing her work, as sloppy as it was, she wiped dry her face and drew in the children quickly. And she told both Koto and Tsuna the same thing.

"Pick just one thing to bring, and choose carefully, because we won't come back for a very long time."

They did so hurriedly, rushing to their rooms in a flurry of panic and zealousness. She heard Koto shout something about including Naru and Suke, and Tsuna cried a response of agreement. Once they were busy and preoccupied, Sakura picked herself up and set out on her own mission, feet heavy and reluctant as she carried herself to her bedroom one last time. There, suddenly, she felt alone. For a moment, Itachi and her children disappeared, and she was alone in the eyes of her past.

She'd known there would be no going back the moment she'd begun her journey nine years ago. She had known and she had accepted that. Now, far down the road, she didn't regret it. But she was scared, terrified, she had made the wrong decision. As she knelt by her bed, reached under the mattress, pulled out in front of her a small wooden chest…unlatched the lock and opened it slowly, she forced herself to think resolutely.

_No. I made the right choice._

Her old uniform, dusty and precious, looked just as it had when she'd put it away, during her first pregnancy. It'd be nice, to don it again, feel the threads of chakra sewn into every stitch, tingling on her skin. There was no way it would fit her now, though, not with her swollen belly. She could imagine it, though. And the thought made her smile, even if she did so sadly.

She settled for taking the gloves and tucked them neatly into her back pocket, and then hesitated upon taking her headband. She had never wanted to fight Konoha. She was content with hiding away with her children to keep her company, living in solitude. She'd told Itachi that Akatsuki's war would not be a part of her life.

She closed her eyes, fists clenching.

They had attacked her babies. She didn't care where she'd come from. She was _here now_, with an obligation to protect her family. Konoha had given up on her—and while she didn't blame them—it only made it easier to just do what she had to do.

Taking the red hitai-ate, she slipped a kunai from her pocket and sliced clean through the Konoha leaf emblem in a single chakra-infused swipe. A perfect line, just like Itachi's. She tied it to her forehead traditionally at first, but then redid the knot and placed it in her hair to pull it back, the way Ino had taught her a lifetime ago. Some things didn't change.

Then, energy near spent, she buried her hand into folds of cloth, pushing aside shorts and a boot until she found the small leather pouch she'd never wanted to look at again. She cradled it in her hands a moment, waiting until her body stopped trembling, stopping threatening to break down. And when she thought it was safe, she turned the pouch upside down, felt the cool smooth feel of the iridescent blue stone on her palm. Two little metal spheres, cold on her skin, the taut leather cord still tight and rough from the blood that had dried there long ago.

"This will be _your_ keepsake," she whispered, gently pulling the necklace over her head, pressing it to her heart as her hand came to rest above her navel. So softly, she murmured to the little life growing inside her, "You'll carry this legacy for me…_Madara_."

* * *

**This chapter is so obnoxiously long.**

**So, yeah, Itachi's got some type of Post Traumatic Disorder going on. But what I wanted to mention is that I used Pain's name instead of Leader. Signifying the change in time and the sequel (like I said, Pain took his time wisely and got what he wanted in the end). If you read the sequel (which I know you will, right?), I suggest you come back and re-read the last two chapters. It's very interesting. All those connections I told you about? **

**We see the first POV that isn't Sakura or Itachi's. And, we see ironically, the name Madara given to her child. Itachi, in his state of psychological unrest, finds the name fitting for mysterious reasons. No, even though Akatsuki's story isn't going as it did in the manga (which Pain having his demons and such), I do not intend to leave Madara out of the story. Again, read the sequel. :)**

**Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, yes, Koto did awaken the third pinwheel. By the way.**

**AnimeCountDown**


	17. Angel

The Village Hidden in the Rain was quiet, calm, and peaceful.

Disturbingly so at times.

There was no life, no energy, no passion in anything or anyone. The citizens would walk in the seemingly eternal rain, dragging their feet with their eyes cast down and heads bowed, rain hats shielding their head and the same brown or grey heavy cloaks wrapped around their shoulders.

Days passed simply. Without trouble. Without incident. Without news. Every day was the same. Gloomy and dark. Wet and cloudy. The entire world had become a grey blob of still silence. The people didn't talk, didn't laugh, didn't have ambitions or goals or dreams.

They were servants to their almighty god, their master of shinobi, their reigning dictator, their beloved.

Pain.

Sakura never saw him in person, maybe because she kept to herself in the strange city she knew nothing—and wanted nothing—of. It was a place she wanted to flee from with great haste, and never come near again. The Akatsuki Headquarters were large and ominous, an imposing, stark tower against the rest of the meek city. A dark palace amongst lowly commoners. Huts that had leaking roofs and men hiding in alleys with cardboard boxes over their heads. Everything else was made of steel. Warehouses, factories, power plants.

She mostly stayed inside, stayed with her children tucked safely on the landing that was reserved strictly for them in the Akatsuki mansion. Most nights, they all slept in the same room. Naru and Suke never left her sight, and Tsuna and Koto were too scared or too smart to leave her side for very long. Itachi once protested to her extreme protectiveness, saying that the city was secure, between the monstrous walls that surrounded them, their stockpiles of supplies, the Akatsuki members, the ninja—there was nothing to fear.

The argument had resolved in a matter of seconds.

Itachi never spoke a word of it again.

When she took her children outside, the few times she found the strength to, the strangest thing of all was the way the people regarded her. To them, the Akatsuki members were angels, the messengers and deliverers of their god. And Sakura was the lover of one of those angels. Kept safe in the rare comfort provided by command of their lord. They watched her—watched her and her children—as she got the fresh air she needed, visited the market, and tried to find normalcy beneath the discomfort of her new life. Whenever one spoke to her, it was formally, with a low bow. Sometimes, they even kneeled and put their forehead to the ground and wouldn't rise until she gave them permission. She was royalty to these people.

She hated it.

It frightened her. For all she'd done, for all the crimes she committed, it horrified that she was held in such high regard. It was beyond respect. Beyond honor. It was servitude and devotion, unwarranted and unjustified. She avoided the Rain people and all their twisted ways.

The children didn't like it, either. Tsuna never stopped asking when they would go home and in just months, Koto became so reclusive she nearly forgot the sound of his voice. Naru and Suke, still just babies, were a constant mess—even they could feel that there was something irrevocably _wrong_ about this place.

The only light was Itachi. He and the rest of the members of Akatsuki were on a vacation. Itachi explained that Pain didn't need them as he stocked up on his chakra, prepared for his declaration of war. Akatsuki was to rest and stay within the village until the time was right.

It was a subject to be avoided, even when Sakura inquired about it, few times that she did. The beginning of the war still implied the tailed demons were sealed and ready to be unleashed at any moment. All of them. All nine. The Kyuubi. The war implied that Naruto was still dead.

Sakura knew he'd always be dead, but thinking about it still hurt more than anything she'd ever endured. That day had been her worst. She'd never felt her heart shatter quite like that. It had been the moment the world she'd known as a twelve-year-old girl—with all her hopes and dreams—had crumbled to dust. To absolute, finished nothing.

She'd ignored Itachi's existence for weeks. Maybe months. Time wasn't something she'd cared about. In fact, she'd ignored everything for a while. Her diet, her sleeping patterns, her exercise, her life.

She hated Itachi for Naruto's death. She didn't even try to think otherwise. It was still in her, that harbored and tightly controlled hatred and anger that would never fully go away. Briefly, once, the thought of revenge had crossed her mind. But she'd been too exhausted to contemplate the idea for more than a few seconds—seconds she had spent alone. And later, she looked back on the thought and scoffed. What an idea. What a cycle. She'd just wanted to die.

Until Koto was born.

That had brought her back.

Itachi had been there, miracle of all miracles. She hadn't known he'd been there. She still didn't know—if he'd been there all day and she'd just been ignoring him or if he'd appeared at the perfect moment. He caught her when she fell, startled by the intensity of the pain. Koto's birth had been a precious moment. It had reunited them. It brought them together again on common ground.

In the end, Sakura had acknowledged the sacrifice Itachi had made in trusting her with the knowledge of Naruto's death. He could have let her remain naïve. Kept her in the dark. Kept her ignorant. But he had not done so. He had given her closure, laid his sins in her hands.

And it was then that Sakura knew he loved her.

With that love, she could forgive him.

With that love, she could give him her own.

She still loved him, without a doubt. But there was always room for resentment, for irritation, for anger. She knew he was doing all he could to keep her safe _and_ happy—but sometimes the two could not go hand and hand. She knew this was the best and only option they had left. And he knew that she loathed the Hidden Rain Village. Loathed it, its people, its ideals, its customs, its weather, its Akatsuki, its god.

She despised it.

Days passed like this.

And then Madara was born. The day Pain released the nine demons without warning or announcement, Sakura gave birth to her fifth child, her last. So still and quiet that child was born, the silence ringing in her ears, an echo against Sakura's previous screaming and the roars of chaos outside. That silence was so deathly, so eerie, Sakura feared the worst, feared her child would not live…

But no. She lived. Small, tiny, pink, with a dark patch of hair upon her head, breathing softly as she was placed in Sakura's anxious arms. She was so white…so pale, it made Sakura so afraid. So terribly afraid her daughter was not right…

And then those little eyes opened.

Red.

Blood red and spinning.

* * *

Hell is a place of demons, of the undefined and the terrible, the destroyers and the hated, the feared and the unsacred. Hell cannot be put into words with all its fire and darkness, the home of the worst. The place of sin and truth. Of destruction and rebirth. Of terror and light.

The light of flames that never end, of histories and cycles that never stop churning in the pits of society and raw human nature. Hatred, anger, revenge. They burn brightly in hearts and minds, passionate, fueling those who grow most powerful. They are the strongest of generators, the biggest of ambitions, the most terrifying of qualities. They never die, never sleep, are fanned by the few who refuse to give up.

Who refuse to let this hell be forgotten by the good of people, by the white, the heavenly, the angels.

Because every so often, one of these angels will be taken.

Will fall.

Will be consumed by such flames and in turn welcome the heat with open arms, will turn and become a demon, a monster, a twin of its creator. Will do as it pleases and forget its origin, will fight and destroy as it wishes, as they all wish.

Until by the fault of the demons, the leaders of darkness.

Create a mistake.

An archangel.

An angel bearing a keepsake at her throat, a legend in her name, and a sight none have ever held before. Born with powers of impossible magnitude. Born with a strength none had yet to possess. Born with a destiny far greater than her creators could anticipate.

Born an angel within the torrents of hell.

* * *

**All done. Read the sequel. It's called Inferno Princess. It's some of my best work in my opinion. My inspiration for it stemmed from a strange combination of The Hunger Games, The Stranger (which is my favorite novel, by the way), and As I Lay Dying. I recommend all three books. And my sequel. :) Thank you all for re-reading (or if you're reading for the first time, I'm sorry I seem so crazy, haha.)**

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